


Corridors of Time

by bookscape



Category: Buck Rogers in the 25th Century, Time Tunnel
Genre: Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 22:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 50,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21023177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscape/pseuds/bookscape





	1. Chapter 1

_ **A Buck Rogers/Time Tunnel crossover** _

**This is a cross over of two science fiction programs: Buck Rogers in the 25th Century and The Time Tunnel. The former has been around for decades in one form or another but I have written mine based on the television show of the late seventies. The Time Tunnel was an Irwin Allen production of 1967 and only lasted a year, due to various things not related to its ratings. For those not familiar with The Time Tunnel series, the explanations come within the story where Buck and Wilma learn more and more about the 20th century top secret installation. **

**December 30, 1933**

**Dr. Ann McGregor Phillips sat at the spacious kitchen table, a small tube by her elbow, reading the paper in her hand. It was difficult. She was trembling and her eyes were blurred with tears. Her husband walked in the door, hastily shutting it behind him. But the cold air that he had let in didn’t bother her this time.**

**Dr. Doug Phillips noticed immediately that something was wrong. "Ann, what is it? The baby?"**

**"No, Doug," she said, her hand immediately touching her enlarged stomach before looking up at him. There were tears in her eyes. "A communiqué from Jerry."**

**"Jerry?" Doug asked, surprised. "He hasn’t sent anything since just after you came here to join us."**

**"I know and he said this would most likely be the last thing we would get," she said, her voice low, almost a whisper.**

**Doug almost dreaded what she was going to say.**

**"He said that Colonel Becker sent the agents out along with warheads. The first strike was detected before impact and the other side sent a return volley that destroyed most of the larger cities on the Eastern seaboard. It escalated and now most of the civilized world is in ruins. Many of the workers, wanting to be with their loved ones left, those few who stayed tried to send themselves through the tunnel to safety. But Jerry changed the settings, not wanting the madness of 1987 to carry over to any other time period. He thinks they were sent into limbo."**

**"Oh, Lord."**

**"Becker hunted him through the complex and tried to kill him. Jerry won. There are only a few people left in the tunnel, but he is going ahead and shutting down the Tunnel, placing fail-safes on it to prevent anyone from reactivating it. Then he is going to seal the entrance to the complex so no one can ever use the Tunnel again," she stopped and Doug saw the tears flowing down her cheeks.**

**He kneeled down beside her and wrapped his arms around his wife, trying to comfort her. There was little comfort to give. His dreams had become ashes when he had been told of the Tunnel’s new use. He was only glad that Jerry had been able to keep their whereabouts secret.**

**"This was the last thing he used the Tunnel for. The final words are, ‘May God have mercy on humanity.’ " She laid her head on his shoulder and wept openly, unable to hold back any longer.**

**=============================**

**May 14, 2495**

**"What’s up, Admiral?" Buck asked as he strode onto the bridge. He had just received the summons as he and Hawk were returning from patrol. The assignment, though mundane, had suited the terran just right, considering how wild life had been the previous six plus months. Now he wondered just what Asimov wanted him for.**

**"We just got a communiqué from Earth. They found something that appears to date from your century and wanted your input," the admiral told him. "You can use the ready room since they told me the information is code red classified."**

**"Yes, sir," Buck said, his curiosity piqued. He walked in the small conference room and keyed in the access code for the Defense Directorate on the communicator, adding his classification number on the end to ensure security. To his surprise, he saw Dr. Huer gazing at him.**

**"How are you today, Buck?" the older man asked.**

**"Great, Doc," he said with a grin. "For a change."**

**Dr. Huer returned the smile.**

**"What’s up?" Buck asked.**

**"Something I hope you can help us with," came the answer.**

**"If I can. Shoot."**

**Huer blinked in slight confusion and then, understanding the terran’s answer, continued. "We started picking up some radiation readings from a desert location north of New Phoenix about two weeks ago." He paused a moment and studied Buck who looked intensely thoughtful. "Were you aware of anything—any testing or top secret installations in that region?"**

**"No, there was only Sedona, Las Vegas and Lake Meade north of there, but that is a lot of territory to cover," Buck responded.**

**"Hmm," Huer murmured. "Well, let me ask this. Were you aware of any kind of project called Project Tic Toc, or something using a designation Code Red Lion?"**

**Buck started. "Red Lion?"**

**"Yes," Huer responded. "Does that sound familiar?"**

**"Yeah, but only in passing. Kind of incidental. I was given top-secret clearance to work on some materials before my little trip into space; some stuff they said I needed to know, in case someone got cute and tried to sabotage the mission. I wondered why they would want me to do that at the time, but now I realize that they probably wanted to use me to keep up with those clowns that tried to start the Holocaust. Some more of that hypnotic conditioning, I guess." He took a breath, trying to remember his memories of that code word. "I was going through some papers. They wanted to know if someone had tried to contact me using any of the codes that they were showing me. I remember seeing the code Red Lion."**

**"And had they?"**

**"No, but I remember it had a symbol with it that the rest of the papers didn’t. Kind of like an hour glass."**

**"Hmm," was all Huer said.**

**"Any significance?"**

**"Yes, as a matter of fact," the doctor said, rubbing his chin. "And you don’t remember a project called Tic Toc?"**

**Now it was Buck’s turn to ponder. There was something that niggled at him, something, like the traitor incident of the year before, that he should remember. He began to shake his head and then stopped. "You know, I vaguely remember during my training days, I was flying high level surveillance training over the southwest desert and my wingman mentioned something odd."**

**When Buck didn’t say anything else, Huer nudged. "Oh?"**

**"Yeah, he said, ‘Buck, old boy, you wouldn’t believe what we’re flying over.’ I remember checking my readouts. It was a remote section of Arizona desert. I kind of got flippant and quipped about it being flat, boring desert. He laughed and then just quit talking." Buck leaned back and sighed, trying to remember everything. "Ron was his name. Suddenly he switched over to the unmonitored channel, but his voice was still low. He said, ‘Buck, there is the most fantastic stuff going on under that desert that anyone could imagine.’ I asked him what and he just said, ‘Tick Tock’ and wouldn’t say anything else."**

**"Nothing?"**

**"No, not a thing, even though I asked, but I did hear some gossip about a huge government complex in the desert, something that was more secret and bigger than the UFO nuts thought Roswell was," Buck replied. "Problem was it was such a persistent dead ending track of gossip during my entire tenure with the Air Force that I just finally chalked it up to fly boy hooey."**

**"Well, your friend was right. There is a complex under the desert in what was once Arizona," Huer declared.**

**"Really?"**

**"Yes, there is, and we finally were able to get into it," the doctor declared. "And we found some interesting things."**

**"Like what?"**

**There was a pause as though the Directorate leader was checking on his communications security. "It was begun in the late 1950’s and apparently was sealed at the time of the Great Holocaust," Huer said.**

**"What in the hell was so deep and dark and important with this thing that the government would pump money into it and keep it a veritable secret for thirty years?" Buck asked.**

**"It took ten years to build and it came into operation in 1968\. It was called Project or Operation Tic Toc, but the notes of one of the scientists indicates that it was simply called the Time Tunnel by those who worked on it," Huer said.**

**Buck did a double take and sat staring at the screen for a moment. Then he took a breath, "Time Tunnel? You mean our government was working on time travel?" he asked. "And they continued pouring money into something that tenuous for that long?" He shook his head. "No wonder my quarters on the Ranger were so cramped…."**

**"Your government," Huer corrected. "And apparently they succeeded."**

**"Succeeded? You are saying that they actually sent someone back or forward in time?" Buck asked, incredulous.**

**"Apparently. Our scientists are going through the computers right now, but the notes of the last scientist in the complex seemed to indicate that two scientists went through this tunnel before it was perfected and they weren’t able to come back. Later, another went willingly and stayed with the first two."**

**"Well, I’ll be," Buck breathed, shaking his head.**

**"And Buck, you cannot believe this complex. I think you, of all people, would appreciate the magnitude of this more than anyone," Huer said seriously.**

**Buck peered at the older man a moment. Something from his time frame, something he would be somewhat familiar with. "Is that an invitation?"**

**"Well, I suppose it is. You might be able to shed some light on some of the things that the notes and computer data are referring to. That is if the Admiral can spare you."**

**"Oh, yeah," he murmured, thinking of something so wildly impossible that it was reality.**

**"But Buck…." Huer prompted, breaking into Buck’s reverie.**

**"Uh, yeah, Doc?"**

**"Please don’t pass this around. One of the things the last scientist was worried about was the fact that the Tunnel had been used as a weapon and he didn’t want it to be used that way again," Huer said seriously.**

**"Wait a minute. What do you mean this tunnel was used as a weapon?" Buck asked. "No one even knew about it."**

**"Remember at your trial when the Crimes Board thought you had caused the Great Holocaust?"**

**"Sure, how can I forget?" Buck replied tersely.**

**"Yes. Me either. I was rather irritated that they didn’t even let me know what was going on until after you had left the _Searcher _for Mt. Rushmore," Huer said.**

**"Doc, it wasn’t your fault they were so secretive. And besides, I heard that you were totally under the weather," Buck reassured the older man.**

**"Doesn’t matter." He paused, bringing himself back to the present. "If the notes are correct, from 1977 until the Holocaust, the Tunnel was under the auspices of the military, the Air Force, I believe."**

**"Hmm, maybe that’s why I heard persistent rumors," Buck ventured.**

**"And the last several years the head of operations there was very interested in checking out what the other side was doing."**

**Buck felt a sense of doom sitting heavily in his chest. "And you are saying?"**

**"This tunnel was the actual start of the Holocaust." Huer leaned back in his chair. "Apparently, those men you went undercover to ferret out for the United States President weren’t the only ones with those paranoid feelings. Some of them were in charge of this Time Tunnel in 1987."**

**Buck bowed his head and sighed. "Damn."**

**"We don’t want this kind of thing happening again," Huer said softly. "We have to keep it secret until we have full control over it. And until we know exactly what we are dealing with."**

**Nodding and then smiling wryly, Buck said, "Any instruction manual for this thing?"**

**"No, other than the few notes left and the data in the computer, but with the advanced technology that we have, we can probably overcome the problems that the scientists had in the past."**

**"And ship people through time?"**

**"Possibly."**

**"Doctor Huer, do you realize what that means?"**

**"Yes, Buck, it means that we might be able to prevent the Great Holocaust from happening," Huer said.**

**"Yeah, I’m interested in seeing this thing. When do you want me?"**

**"Whenever Admiral Asimov can let you come," Huer said.**

**"How about tonight?" He thought a minute.**

**Huer nodded, his smile tight. "You realize, Buck, the ramifications of changing the past, at least the theoretical ramifications?"**

**"To hell with the ramifications!" Buck cried out. "If there is a way to prevent something like that…."**

**"I know, my friend, I know." Huer sighed again. "The same thoughts have run through my mind, too."**

**"I’ll be in New Chicago tomorrow night."**

**Huer shook his head. "We’ll give you the coordinates. Come directly. Less chance of something leaking out to someone who doesn’t like us."**

**"I understand."**

**"Again, Buck, don’t let anyone know the details of this thing. I can make a formal request to Admiral Asimov for you to come to Earth."**

**Buck just nodded. "Sure thing, Doc. I’ll go pack my overnight bag."**

**"And I would like Wilma to come, too, if she can also be spared," Huer said. "I think she might be able to help us in this, too. She was head of the Defense Directorate after all."**

**"Sure. Do you want me to let her in on this or do you want to brief her?" asked Buck.**

**"You do it. I will talk to the admiral."**


	2. Chapter 2

**Buck skillfully landed his starfighter on the flat desert floor. There was very little to see, but it was as he had expected. From his days in the twentieth century, he knew this was a very barren area, and it had been made more barren by the horrible devastation of the nuclear war.**

**"Where is this complex that’s supposed to be out here?" Wilma asked, popping the canopy and cringing a bit as a hot blast of air seemed to smack her in the face.**

**"Underground," Buck said, scanning the horizon for the welcoming committee. He had landed at the exact coordinates.**

**"I know, but you would expect something to let you know there was some type of . . . something here," she said.**

**"No, it was top secret. Totally underground," he said, realizing that he had given her very little to go on and less time to assimilate that they were heading to Earth for a mission. "Back in the twentieth century, I didn’t know about it even though I had heard rumors about something big out here," Buck said.**

**"And it’s supposed to be some kind of time experiment?" she asked.**

**"No, some kind of time travel device," he corrected. "They actually sent people through time."**

**"Buck, you’ve been strangely quiet about all of this," she said in a worried tone and laying her hand on his arm. "Can you tell me more now?"**

**He nodded. "Somewhere below our feet is the beginning point of the Great Holocaust," he said soberly.**

**Wilma blanched. "This complex was the means that . . . for the…."**

**"Yes." Buck sighed. "At least that is what Dr. Huer found out when they finally unsealed this thing."**

**As if on cue, the ground shook slightly and the pair stood up in their fighter. Not twenty feet from their ship a large patch of ground opened up revealing a dark hole. A few pebbles, loosened by the sliding ‘door’ rattled into the hole. Within a minute an old-fashioned vehicle, a jeep, Buck noted, drove up the ramp from the hole and stopped beside them. A middle-aged man in a Directorate uniform got out and approached. "Colonel Deering and Captain Rogers?"**

**Both nodded, still taking in the old conveyance.**

**"Yes, Captain," Wilma said for both of them.**

**"I have been asked to escort you down to the complex," he replied. "After doing a check on your identities, of course." He climbed up on the wing of the fighter and did a retinal and voice scan, along with the standard visual. "All right, you check out."**

**"Okay, and you?" Buck asked.**

**The other man looked surprised. "Me? What?"**

**"I am sure this is all legit, but I want to know I am not going into the caves of Cerberus without a bit of security check of my own," Buck said deferentially.**

**"Oh," the Directorate guard said. He handed his credentials over to Wilma.**

**She gazed at them, showed them to Buck and then nodded. "Looks all right to me," she said.**

**"Okay. What do you want us to do with our fighter?" Buck asked, thinking it would stick out in the desert like a sore thumb. "Just leave it here?"**

**"Oh, no, Captain. It’s a bit tight, but if you think you or the Colonel can do it, it’s to be flown down to the waiting area below."**

**Buck raised his eyebrows, while eyeballing the dimensions of the entrance. The Directorate official was right; it would be tight, but possible.**

**"I can do it if you aren’t sure, Buck," Wilma said gently.**

**He grinned, ready to take up her challenge. "You remember, you’re talking to the person who navigated an African jungle in one of these things…."**

**"And crashed it, if I recall," she reminded him with a knowing smile.**

**"Well, okay, bad example," Buck said with a laugh. "But I think I can do it."**

**Wilma nodded, thinking that he would say that. She sat back down and closed the canopy when he had done the same.**

**Gently raising the ship a foot off the ground, Buck carefully eased the craft after the jeep, which had driven back down into the entrance. The ramp curved down a gentle slope and he concentrated mostly on the width, which allowed him less than foot on either side. Heaven help them if they had to make a quick getaway. When he saw that the entrance was closing behind him, he turned on the landing lights, which showed a long corridor that seemed to go on forever. The jeep ahead was only two blood-red pinpoints of light going down and down some more. With agonizing slowness, Buck guided the interstellar craft into the bowels of the pre-holocaust installation. His hands held steady on the stick, but he felt the sweat bead on his forehead and he sincerely hoped this descent would not take too much longer. A mistake a few inches one way or the other and he’d be paying to have the side guns repaired.**

**"I think our escort is leveling out, Buck," Wilma said softly, as though reading his mind.**

**"Yeah, I see that," he murmured. Slowly, he continued to maneuver downward, past what seemed to be an old checkpoint station where the corridor widened a bit. Finally the access opened into a large receiving area. There were several older vehicles shoved to one side. Some, like the jeep that had greeted them, appeared to be in working order, others were just dusty heaps that needed to be tossed in a recycling bin somewhere. As he followed their guide’s directions and set the starfighter to one side, he sighed and then let out his breath slowly in relief. "It would seem back in the sixties, they didn’t have anything quite like this coming and going down here. Or else they used one entrance for the construction of this place and this one for regular activities after completion."**

**Wilma laid her hand on his. "Nice flying, Buck." The crillite stone in her engagement ring winked with its own light.**

**"If we do this too often, I’ll just put wheels on it and let it roll down the ramp," he muttered, shutting down the systems and undogging the hatch. He climbed out onto the wing and offered his hand to his companion. With a soft chuckle, Wilma joined him and soon they were standing on the floor of the five hundred year old installation. They both looked up and gazed intently at the beams and supports that kept the desert above from crushing them.**

**"It’s all been checked out for structural integrity," a different voice behind them said. "Even after more than five hundred years, and the devastation, it only needed slight repairs." Starting, the pair turned and saw someone else appearing out of the dim shadows. The newcomer had on the garb of a member of the Science Directorate. "I am Dr. Frit Malcome. Dr. Huer is expecting you both."**

**"Thank you, Doctor," Wilma answered for both of them. They followed Malcome down another corridor that eventually opened up to a wide cavernous area that was lit with soft, glowing panels of light. When they walked out to the open walkway and to a railing, Wilma gasped in surprise. A vast, gaping orifice seemed to go down, down, down as though trying to make it to the center of the earth. She couldn’t see the bottom. Somehow, Wilma didn’t think she would even if it was brightly lit.**

**"Holy mackerel!" Buck breathed in awe. He heard Wilma sucking in her breath beside him.**

**"What gave off the signals that led us here, Captain, is down below," Malcome explained. "That was where the most work had to be done. We have replaced the power source, but the actual power drive unit was still intact and we are using it to supply everything needed to run this complex. Follow me. If you think this is a view, wait until you see the power core!"**

**For several more minutes, Buck and Wilma stood at the railing gazing in wonder at the construct that was over five hundred years old. Then they turned and followed Malcome, who had been waiting patiently, as though everyone stopped and gaped before continuing the tour. Wilma figured they probably did.**

**"It’s quite amazing, isn’t it?" the young directorate captain asked.**

**"It is indeed. And to think I flew over this thing often during my early Air Force days," Buck said. "And didn’t even know about it."**

**"Apparently, not many did."**

**"Enough that it was used to blow up the earth," Wilma said solemnly. "Why isn’t it just dismantled completely?"**

**"Colonel, not to sound disrespectful, but can you think of the ramifications of a device that can give us the history that was lost to us half a millennium ago?" Malcome asked.**

**"Yeah," Buck concurred. "And other implications, too," he added enigmatically.**

**Malcome led them to a small chamber that lay at the opposite end from where they entered. The only things in the small room were two large gray disks that were slightly raised above the floor. "Colonel, Captain, if you would step on one of these, we can go down to the actual complex."**

**"Down?" Wilma asked. "These will take us down."**

**"Eight-hundred stories. Quite an experience, ma’am," the younger man said with a grin. "But absolutely safe."**

**"The latest in open air elevators," Buck quipped, getting on one and pulling Wilma on with him. "Stick close."**

**"Gladly," she returned, putting her arm around his waist. As soon as Malcome stepped on his, they began their descent. There was very little side-to-side motion, but the feeling of freefall dropping was almost frightening. Only the soft air that seemed to pin them onto the platform, along with the solidness beneath their feet kept her from clutching even tighter to Buck.**

**"Better than Six Flags," he quipped, laughing.**

**"Six Flags?" Wilma asked, as she felt the platform slowing.**

**"Amusement park in my day. Something like this would have been a real winner," Buck explained.**

**When the glowing platform was still, Malcome stepped off his disk and beckoned to them. "Come this way, please. The complex proper is not far ahead." Stepping to another railing, they looked in awe at the glowing device below them. The radiant orb before them waxed and waned with a perfect cadence of a heartbeat and the huge round sphere was only the top of a monstrous power source that had to stretch at least twenty stories below them.**

**They walked down a large corridor. The ceiling as they strode along was dark, giving the feel of a limitless cavern. They walked among rows of primitive computer banks that were interspersed with their twenty-fifth century counterparts. They blinked with friendly blue, green and yellow lights and whirred with seemingly nonchalant devotion. Buck and Wilma continued to walk along behind Malcome until they reached a wider part of the corridor where stood a monstrous device of gigantic rings. The spherical shapes seemed to decrease in size until they disappeared at the end of the cone-shaped construct. Like the power source behind them, this, too, glowed with a pulsating blue-green light.**

**"Welcome to the Time Tunnel," Malcome said in quiet awe, leading them to the front of the ringed device. It was even more awesome from the front view.**

**A familiar face turned toward them. "Ah, Buck, Wilma. Glad you could come."**

**"I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Dr. Huer," Buck said. Wilma just nodded.**

**"How do you like it so far?" the older man asked.**

**"I am impressed," Buck breathed, still staring at the tunnel. "Is it safe to examine it?"**

**"Yes, the systems are only on at a level to give basic power. There is no danger of any kind of power surge that would send anyone anywhere," Huer assured him. "We haven’t figured out enough to do that, but we’re close. As I told you before, most of our information was gleaned from the journal the last scientist kept. Our computers are also analyzing the data from the computers here. They have pulled a great deal out already. It absolutely amazes me that your people could come up with something this complex so many years ago."**

**"We may have been savage at times, Doc, but not totally primitive," Buck reminded the Directorate leader even as he gingerly walked onto the narrow gangway that ran the length of the tunnel. Around him the lights throbbed eerily, making it all seem so surreal. He walked until his head brushed the top of one of the rings. Still beyond him it had the appearance of being endless. Touching the glowing ring above his head, Buck felt the thrumming energy and wondered what in the world this would be like with full power.**

**"It’s incredible," Wilma breathed next to him, her voice almost dreamy.**

**Buck concurred. He turned and looked beyond Wilma at what he assumed was the complex control stations, a couple of banks of switches, dials, and monitors. Dr. Huer watched them, even as he also glanced at the monitors. Wilma turned and walked back out, Buck right behind her. Soon they were beside Dr. Huer looking back at the machine.**

**"I would like for you to read the notes that the scientist, Jerry Ricker, wrote," Dr. Huer said softly.**

**Buck didn’t wonder at his tone of voice. One almost got the feeling of being in a cathedral. It was spooky and magnificent at the same time. And yet, when he thought about it, it was also deadly. He took the book from Huer’s hand and opened it up to the beginning.**

**It began at the point when Jerry Ricker began his tenure at the complex. Somehow Buck didn’t doubt that the man had kept notes before, but probably nothing of this depth. It was as though this journal was a testament to what he knew was to come. It appeared to be about three hundred pages, so obviously there was another journal or Jerry had worked in fits and starts, perhaps reverting to old non-writing habits after the gleam of excitement and discovery had worn off. ‘You can’t imagine my joy when I was finally pulled from what I considered my mundane job at Oak Ridge to work on something that I had only known about in hushed whispers, innuendos and veiled notes.’ Buck felt someone by his side and he knew it was Wilma. Huer had already read this, he presumed. But then maybe he had only read enough to be confused by mid-twentieth century idioms and references.**

**"Would you like me to read it aloud, Doctor Huer?" he asked.**

**"If you don’t mind, Buck. There were parts that I found rather . . . confusing. I thought you might be able to shed some light on some of the terms. And besides, although I have read and understood most of it, I think it would have more meaning and impact from someone who lived in that time."**

**Buck nodded and pointed to several chairs in front of a console. "You mind if we sit?"**

**At Huer’s shake of the head, they all sat down, looking at the written words in a five hundred year old book, but feeling the brooding influence of the ringed marvel that glowed softly in front of them.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Buck began reading the entries of the long dead scientist. Apparently the young man had arrived at Project Tic Toc just after Christmas of 1966. " ‘1967! What a wonderful year; a glorious year of discovery and awakening. I can’t believe what I have found here. The rumors were pale beside the truth of what the scientists have been doing and what they have discovered. Dr. Phillips is a powerhouse—frightening in his intensity and desire for success, and yet cautious almost beyond endurance to the rest of us. Dr. Newman, at times, is almost ready to take a gun and put Doug out of his misery. Doug’s or Tony’s, I can’t be sure. Tony has been doing nothing but talk about his new discovery using radiation technology to aide the transfer of living objects through the vortex. I like working with Tony Newman. He wants nothing more than to prove the viability of time travel and is almost frenetic in his experiments, studies, and tests. Doug Phillips is just as driven, but I think he feels the weight of his leadership among the scientists, as well as the government bureaucrats who are footing the bill.’ " Here, Buck had to translate the idiom.**

**He continued reading, getting some clear assessments as to the main players in the building of this complex. The military liaison had been one General Heywood Kirk, someone near retirement, a widower who had come on the project in skepticism, but had quickly become a full-fledged staunch supporter. Seemed to Buck that he had more or less had to, as the only non-scientist at the top. Racking his brains, he tried to think if he had heard of this general, but he finally gave up. The name Kirk was not the least bit familiar.**

**Besides Dr. Doug Phillips, a genius in quantum physics, electrical engineering, as well as having a degree in history, and Dr. Anthony Newman, a top-notch electro-physics major, with another degree in nuclear engineering, there was Dr. Raymond Swain, a man of not only the background but also the practical experience to be a cool head on the job. According to the journal, it was often Swain, along with the other head scientist, Dr. Ann McGregor, who kept Phillips and Newman from each other’s throats at times. Buck laughed at one entry.**

**"What is it, Buck?"**

**"Ricker just wrote that he thought Ann McGregor was in love with Doug Phillips, but couldn’t seem to bring herself to say anything to him. He also wrote that Phillips was apparently oblivious to the signs."**

**"Sounds like a couple of people I know," Huer said dryly.**

**Wilma and Buck both gazed at him even as they blushed slightly. The latter cleared his throat and continued reading. " ‘Today a senator came calling. Blast those politicians! He was obnoxious from the get-go. Without even doing more than see the Tunnel, he declared his intentions of cutting funding. Couldn’t even understand how close we were. Ten years isn’t the lifetime in science that it is in politics. It took years for the Curie’s to develop their theories; it took years for the development of nuclear energy. You can’t rush science.’ " Buck looked up and saw Dr. Huer nodding. He looked back down at the journal and continued. " ‘Senator Clark pretty much called Doug and Tony’s bluff. It didn’t even help that General Kirk was an old friend of Clark’s. The jackass! What did he expect? Tony goes ahead and sends himself through the Tunnel, letting the computer pick a time and place. I think the computer had a mind of its own because Tony ended up on the _Titanic_ only a scant day before its collision with the iceberg. Of course, idealist that he is, Dr. Newman decided to try and convince the captain to alter course, slow up or something. That had been the debate around here since before I got here. What would happen if one of us did go back and try to alter history? Would we cause something worse? Help one group while condemning another? Obliterate whole civilizations? But when push came to shove, how could you stand aside and watch death and destruction happen even though you already knew the outcome?’ " Then Dr. Phillips had been sent back to try and save Tony.**

**Buck paused and closed his eyes. How could someone long dead know what was on his mind? Now he was curious about the consequences of Newman’s efforts to change the course of history. As far as he knew, the _Titanic_ had sunk with the loss of many lives. That was history, so Tony Newman must not have succeeded in convincing the captain. Buck found his place and continued reading to himself. Then he remembered his audience and read aloud. Ricker’s narrative was intense, with a minimum of detail, but it was enough to have all three of them riveted. Then Jerry Ricker added a direct quote. " ‘Captain Smith said, My mind will not let me believe you. But I do believe in a God, gentlemen. If what you say is true, and only the fact that you were here will save those that do survive, I would have to consider that a miracle of God's mercy. And Tony replied, In a way, perhaps it is.’ " Buck looked up again. He didn’t say anything for a moment.**

**"I heard something about a ship by that name," Wilma said hesitantly. "Something about it being unsinkable."**

**"Yes, and more than half of the people on board died because no one believed that the ship could sink and so weren’t prepared with enough lifeboats," Buck added. "But the idea that these two scientists’ presence might have allowed even that many people to live…."**

**"If you feel up to it, Buck," Dr. Huer interrupted his reverie after a few minutes of silence. "Could you read more?"**

**Buck did and continued the narratives into the adventures of the two scientists in various ages and events. Occasionally, Dr. Malcome stopped and listened. At times Dr’s Phillips and Newman continued to try to help people, including Abraham Lincoln, Marco Polo, King Arthur, Jim Bowie, even Joshua, son of Nun, among others, but at other times it was a matter of survival. Buck lent his more detailed understanding of pre-twentieth century history to the narratives by explaining just who each of these people and each of the events were. Some were more familiar to Wilma and Huer than others.**

**It was amazing to him that two modern scientific men could find themselves so much at the mercy of those they were visiting—or of the times they were in. What was most tragic, though, as Buck continued reading, was that they couldn’t seem to get home. Those at the complex couldn’t find a way around that problem either. Others seemed to be able to come and go, but not Tony and Doug. Buck felt the increasing frustration in the words on the page. He felt the heartache, the fatigue and despair in the tired scrawl that some pages ended on. Finally, Buck put a bit of paper in the spot where he finished and sighed. Stretching, he tried to get the kinks out of his back.**

**Huer sighed, too. "Why don’t we go into the food area and get something to eat and drink. You’ve been reading for almost two hours."**

**"That poor man," Wilma said softly as they walked away from the monstrous ringed conduit.**

**"Which one?" Buck asked.**

**"Tony Newman watching his father die."**

**"At least he found out what happened to them and got to say good-bye," Buck replied. He was feeling tense. His idea that the Tunnel might possibly be used to undo what it had been used for so long ago seemed to be mocked by the narrative in his hand and he didn’t like the thought one bit.**

**Wilma gazed meaningfully at him. "Yes, you’re right, he did," she said.**

**Buck wasn’t even aware of what he had on his plate until Wilma gently nudged him and said, "You have let your food get cold. Is that journal bothering you? Or is it the complex as a whole?"**

**Buck sighed and looked down at the somewhat mushed together portions of food. With another sigh, he pushed the plate away. "What is the point in reactivating this thing if it can’t be used to undo what it began half a millennia ago? Seems it would be better left dead and no one would be tempted to try to blow up this time zone or a future one," Buck snapped.**

**"Buck," Dr. Huer said softly, waiting for the younger man to look at him. "When you were explaining some of the historical figures and events to us, they almost seemed mundane, like anyone should know what they were. The problem is, we don’t. Oh, we have vague ideas of what happened in the pre-holocaust days, but it’s like a fog shrouded expanse to us. Occasionally there are glimmers of knowledge in that fog, but for the most part…. For the most part, we know so little about ourselves as a people."**

**"Maybe you should be thankful," Buck snapped, still feeling the pain of what happened five hundred years ago reopening what he thought had healed since his awakening. "After everything that mankind has done to destroy itself."**

**"No, I want to know the bad and the good." Huer laid a hand on his arm. "If there is a way to change what happened without destroying what we have now, we will. However, if what Dr. Ricker was saying is true, then we should be able to use the Tunnel to observe the past, learn from mistakes made. My friend, let’s go forward with this. Even if we simply use the Time Tunnel to observe, not go back."**

**Buck shook himself out of his black mood. "But the only way they observed the different times was because Newman and Phillips were there."**

**"If you recall, Jerry Ricker said that they were able to see some times because they had sent back animals. At least briefly. I think we can take what we have learned, work out the problems that stymied those scientists back then and perhaps use a computerized probe instead of a human," Dr. Huer suggested.**

**"Possible," Buck concurred. "Okay, I guess we should continue with the journal and see what Jerry Ricker can add to what we know."**

**"I wonder where Tony and Doug ended up?" Wilma mused aloud.**

**Buck shrugged. "Maybe someplace where they could have some peace. I wonder if they knew what eventually happened?"**

**"Ricker indicated that he sent secret messages to them, but didn’t say where or when," Huer said.**

**"To keep anyone from figuring it out if they found Ricker’s journal," Buck added.**

**Wilma shook her head. "Either way, it’s a very sad ending to their work and dreams."**

**"Hopefully, they found more happiness in the past than they were finding while they were developing this thing," Buck replied. "Or while they were bouncing from one temporal catastrophe to another."**

**Wilma looked skeptical, but said nothing. So they continued with the reading, taking turns when Buck’s voice gave out, brainstorming what they had read, and trying to glean more clues from the old journal, even as the technicians coaxed information from the old computers.**

**The third day there, Dr. Malcome almost bounced into the common room where the trio had just finished lunch and were getting ready to read more narrative. They all looked up.**

**"We did it! We used the notes and figured it out!" Malcome announced.**

**"Figured what out?" they all asked at the same time.**

**"We duplicated Dr. Newman’s radiation bath and have been able to send objects into the past and move them around!"**

**Huer smiled. "That is a very good beginning. Now comes the more complicated part—retrieving whatever has been sent back."**

**"Including Dr’s Newman, Phillips, and McGregor?" Wilma asked.**

**"If they so choose, Wilma," Buck said gently. "And if they are still alive."**

**"You read the passages yourself, Buck," Dr. Huer reminded him. "Tony and Doug decided to stay in the past. Jerry deleted the computer information that would have allowed the project leaders to find them and force them to spy for them. They settled somewhere in time and tried to live normal lives. Only Jerry and Ann knew where they were and only very sporadically made contact. Only when they knew they weren’t watched, or could be traced. It’s a wonder that Ann McGregor waited as long as she did."**

**"Not surprising to me," Buck mused aloud. "From what Jerry said, that was what General Raylie, Becker’s assistant, expected and suspected and was simply watching and waiting until someone, most likely her, made contact and gave the brass the information they needed. Despite the fact that there had been no success in getting Newman and Phillips back, those two were still their best experts on the subject of time travel. So Ann waits until the heat is off and then bugs out." He paused a moment and then continued thoughtfully. "But such a life, wondering if the big bad wolf was going to blow your tentative house down," Buck murmured. The others gazed at him with puzzled looks. "Big brother syndrome. The paranoid worry that someone who was after you might succeed in finding you. Considering this is a time project, they could spend years in their own time zone and never feel totally safe."**

**"And you said they might have found happiness," Wilma said sadly.**

**"After a manner, they might have, Wilma," Buck replied.**

**"But we have this much and soon I know we’ll have more," Malcome assured them.**

**"I don’t doubt it," Buck murmured.**

**When Malcome left, Huer turned to him. "What’s bothering you, Buck?"**

**"Suppose they don’t want to be found. Suppose that we’ll be to them, just as Raylie, Becker and the others were five hundred years ago. Maybe they have truly acclimatized to their time and situation."**

**Wilma put her arm around his waist and drew him close. "I doubt that they went far out of their time zone. You have been five hundred years displaced. Have you totally acclimatized?" She shivered slightly and he returned her embrace.**

**"In many ways, yes, I have, Wilma. In other ways, I’ll always feel the tug of my previous life. But I think I have stopped wishing for what I can’t have."**

**Huer studied the younger man carefully. Had Buck really stopped wishing? Had he truly laid the past to rest? Did he not wish to change the horrible events that had propelled him into a future life? Somehow, the Directorate leader felt this project had stirred up ghosts that seemed determined to possess the young captain. There was a part of him that almost wished he hadn’t brought Buck Rogers into this.**

**Buck saw the older man’s look and sighed. "Don’t get me wrong. My brain agrees with the logic of what I’m reading—there is no way that what we know as the past could be changed anymore than Tony and Doug could change it. Or even if there was, I couldn’t take the chance of destroying the present." He shook his head. It was so confusing. Then he looked at Wilma, close to his side. This was the present that he didn’t want to change. "But my heart wishes that it was possible and it could be done without harming what I have come to know and love about the present." He gazed meaningfully at Wilma and she just hugged him closer.**


	4. Chapter 4

**The breakthrough, when it came, seemed entirely too easy. If Dr. Frit Malcome had been beside himself before, he was really ecstatic now. By now, ten days later, the trio had almost finished the journal, as well as read through some loose notes that Buck had found in Jerry Ricker’s room. Buck had come to admire Jerry Ricker very much. He had persevered in a situation that had become intolerable, all to protect his friends and to try to protect the integrity of the project that Doug Phillips and his fellow scientists had begun so many years before. He felt a sort of connective bond with Ricker’s thoughts and feelings, he understood the despair and helplessness, having felt so much of it himself the first couple of years of his new life.**

**Ricker, however, had no light at the end of his tunnel, so to speak. Buck had the advantage of making a new life; Jerry did not. He knew too much, was too much an integral cog in the machinery of the underground complex. It was not written in black and white, but Buck could pick out between the lines in Ricker’s journal. The man knew he was a prisoner for the last years before the holocaust. And he was certainly resigned to his fate afterward. The journal entries were much more candid after everyone else was either gone into the swirling maze of time or had been killed.**

**However, when it came to the whereabouts of the three temporal scientists, Ricker was extremely tight-lipped. It was understandable, Buck thought and Ricker had even pointed that out in his journal. There had been a slight tingling of guilt that he had wanted to pursue his quest despite the scientist's last wishes. Ricker's thoughts had been that if in the remote event that anyone did discover the Tunnel in the distant future, or if indeed anyone had even survived the horrible events that Ricker had witnessed, the twentieth century scientist wanted Tony, Doug and Ann's privacy secured. And yet.... And yet, there was a slight note of doubt in Jerry's thoughts. Knowing where they were and when would make them vulnerable to the very holocaust that their invention had created. That thought had been very clear in Ricker’s last entries.**

**Buck paused in his reading, a diverging thought striking him forcibly with its power. Wouldn't the idiots with the bombs have found some way to deliver their deadly cargo even if they couldn't have succeeded in using Operation Tic Toc? Was it fair to blame the Time Tunnel and its inventors for the horrible devastation? No, if Tony or Doug, Ann or Ricker had any voice in the matter, they would have prevented the terrible events of 1987. Another thought hit him. Why didn't Ricker try to go back in time and try to prevent the Holocaust? He posed the questions to his companions and they had sat in thoughtful silence for some time before venturing any kind of thoughts on the matter.**

**"You could very well be right, Buck," Dr. Huer ventured. "Such men will ultimately find a way to force their ideologies on others. If one method fails, they keep trying until one finally works, or until they are annihilated themselves. You have seen that even in our century. But you know that time better than we do and you know the mindset of such men."**

**"As to the other question, Buck, maybe he did try. Maybe he found what he had been writing about over the years, that it was impossible to change such things," Wilma mused. "By going back, the person trying to change the events becomes a part of them."**

**"In fact, we found something in the computer that we think Dr. Ricker supplied. Something he called the Novikov self-consistency principle," Dr. Huer added. "Which you have very aptly put into laymen’s terms, Wilma." * (Novikov) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Novikov_self-consistency_principle**

**Unfortunately, Buck had just about come to the same conclusion, which took him from his original idea of using the Tunnel to avert the disaster. What he saw now, was a trio of scientists stuck in a past where their skills were of little or no value, where they would be forced to see the events that led up to the Holocaust, helpless to do anything about it.**

**Buck was convinced that the trio was in the not far removed past from the nuclear holocaust, probably not more than fifty years. That was clear enough in Jerry's notes. But where? And when? Buck kept trying to find clues to Tony, Doug and Ann’s whereabouts, but so far he only had vagaries. They were in the Intermountain West somewhere, he was almost positive of that. Nothing concrete, but something that he felt strongly about. It was the when that was puzzling. Perhaps if he could more accurately pinpoint the place, he could find some old records that might hold the key.**

**He thought it curious that Jerry began writing quotes from Pres. Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the first one being the famous fear quote from FDR’s first inaugural address. Then it dawned on him; that had to be the date that the time traveling trio settled in the past. March 4, 1933\. That was the only quote that had a date attached. Now for the place. Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, the Dakota’s? Despite Jerry's reasons for not just coming out and divulging the scientists' exact whereabouts, Buck now felt compelled to find and talk to these people. He felt a link to them. Was it tied to the displacement feelings he sometimes had? Possibly it was, or maybe it was something else. He looked through notes and letters, spent more than a little time in Ricker’s small apartment in the bowels of the complex. The man had taken up quarters in the project coordinator’s apartment near the end and Buck began combing that place, too. Wilma was uncomfortable in either place. The larger apartment was where Ricker’s body had been found, in the bed, as though the man had laid down to sleep and never awakened.**

**Finally, Buck found what he thought was the breakthrough clue. It was separate from the journals; something that he had found in an envelope, dated a short time after Ricker had shut down the tunnel. It was a torn out page from an atlas with a dot in marker in one spot. Was it Montana, or Nebraska? He studied the two sides and couldn’t help but think that it was the spot out in the backwoods a hundred or so miles from Helena. But it was so smeared that he couldn’t tell just what location it really was. There was a scrawled note on the bottom that confirmed to Buck that Ricker had been having second thoughts about keeping the trio's location secret. It said, " 'May God have mercy on my soul, keeping the promise I had made to Doug back when I was still in communication. Keep it a secret, they said. Did they realize by keeping that secret, what would happen to any children they had—to the child they have already had?"**

**Okay, Ricker had regretted closing off the tunnel to his friends, so why didn't he leave more clues for others to be able to contact and rescue Tony, Doug and Ann? Perhaps because he was afraid that others like Becker and his cronies would find the complex and try to exploit it. Poor Dr. Ricker. It was a turmoil that he could never quite rectify in his own mind. Somehow, Buck thought that such a dilemma might have very well unhinged the lonely man.**

**Still, after several days Buck was almost ready to give it up before it unhinged him. Wilma, whom he suspected knew what his thoughts were, had kindly left him alone in his research. Buck went through the notes and papers that Jerry had left in various places in his room, old and new. Then he noticed a seeming out of place reference to wolves. It was out of place like that Roosevelt quote had been. Searching through other notations that had been made during that time, Buck saw a reference to Lewis and Clark, also made out of context. Frowning, he tried to think. Yes, there were wolves in Montana, but how would that help? A national park? But the only one he was aware of in Montana was Glacier. He wasn't aware of anything of any size in Nebraska. Lewis and Clark had gone all the way across Montana. Couldn't say the same for Nebraska. Suddenly, Buck was excited. Montana. It had to be! He had narrowed it down.**

**He jumped up and headed for the main computer terminals near the tunnel. Wilma, Dr. Huer and Dr. Malcome were in there and looked at him curiously. Buck ignored them, sitting at one of the terminals and typing in his request. A map came on the screen, showing the route of the two famous explorers. Then he typed in another request and a map of Montana of the twentieth century came up. Leaning closer to the screen, he studied it, looking for something, he wasn’t sure what. Then with an excited intake of breath, Buck knew he had it. Wolf Point. No, there were two cities or towns with the name Wolf in it. Wolf Creek. Both small cities smack dab on the route of the two nineteenth explorers. But which one? Without saying a word to anyone, Buck got up and returned to the scientist’s room. He looked for more clues. Now he wasn’t trying for continuity, but for something that broke it. With a sigh, Buck lay back on the bed and continued.**

**Then he remembered Jerry’s mention after the Holocaust of there not being anymore purple mountains majesty, but nothing else of the patriotic song. Montana was a state of plains and mountains. Which town would have been closer to the mountains? Again, he went into the main complex and brought up the old maps. He let out breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. Wolf Creek was in a mountainous area. It was close to what was once the Glacier National Park. A soft reflection in the monitor showed that Wilma was now standing behind him.**

**"Found something?" she asked.**

**"I believe I have found the location of Tony, Doug and Ann."**

**"What?" Malcome’s choked voice sounded from the console in front of the tunnel. The rings were a soft blue color, throbbing almost like a heartbeat. The Directorate scientist had been sending probes back in time for several days now and they had been able to see various times and places for limited times.**

**"I think I know where the three time travelers are," Buck repeated.**

**"Where?" Dr. Huer asked, having walked up behind Malcome.**

**Buck hesitated, and then took a deep breath. "Only if you send me instead of some little radioactive pellet or camera."**

**"What?" three voices replied together. The shock in their voices was palpable.**

**"You heard me. I want to meet these people, not play peeping Tom," Buck declared. "I want to breathe the air of my previous century," he added in a softer voice. "I want, for a brief moment, to be an American in America."**

**"Buck…." Wilma began and then stopped. She laid her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Then she turned to the other two men and nodded. "Would you be able to bring back a person, no matter how long they’ve been in a time zone?"**

**"You talking about Buck or the three scientists? I don’t like the idea of sending anybody back, much less Captain Rogers," Malcome said tersely.**

**"Who better than me? I am the most connected to the twentieth century. I could pass for an inhabitant much more easily than any of you could," Buck argued.**

**"Right now, I’m talking about Buck," Wilma replied, ignoring Buck’s argument.**

**"Well," began Malcome. "Yes, theoretically. We’ve had no trouble bringing back the probes. But I want to try this on other organic life forms before sending a person."**

**"How long will it take you?" Buck asked.**

**"Probably not much longer than it will take you to research your theory a bit more thoroughly, Captain," the scientist returned.**

**"Touché, Doctor." Buck smiled.**

**Dr. Huer had sat quietly listening. Now he only sighed, but agreed with Buck’s assessment. "But only after more experimentation and I am satisfied that you could be returned to us."**

**Wilma’s look didn’t bode well for him later on, Buck thought. However, if Wilma had something on her mind, she kept it to herself. Buck researched the area and the time, finding very little information about Wolf Creek in the 1930’s. He could only go by historical information and pictures that he gleaned about other Montana towns and cities, like Helena and Billings. He figured that winter was the best time to go back, specifically a little before Christmas. This elicited some surprised questions from the others, particularly Malcome.**

**"Why Christmas, Captain Rogers?" the Directorate scientist asked bluntly. "Seems it would be much to hectic during that holiday, especially in those days."**

**"It was also a season of good will and cheer. If anyone has reason to be suspicious of me, it will be negated by the charitable feelings of the time of year," Buck responded. There were other, half-formed thoughts in his head. "There is very little extant money during the period, so I won’t have the means to rent a room for any length of time…."**

**"You mean you don’t think you’ll be able to make contact quickly?" Huer asked.**

**Buck shook his head. "No, I think these people won’t be living right in town, but on a ranch or something similar outside of the town limits. More private. And if they are worried that Becker and his boys might guess their whereabouts, living in the remote rural area makes more sense." He paused and thought a moment before continuing. "I think I’ll have to ask around and wait a bit." What he didn’t say is that if they had become friends with various townspeople, Tony and Doug might have their network of ‘early warning’ established and working. It would be chancy. Wilma just gazed thoughtfully at him but didn’t say a thing.**

**If 1933 were the year that they had arrived, then going in within a year or two would make a great deal of sense, before they had become too acclimatized. However, if, on the other hand, he had misread the ‘clues,’ then he could end up in Timbuktu and nothing to show for it but a nice visit to the past. Or a not so nice one if Ricker’s notes of Tony and Doug’s journeys were correct. Seemed those boys were trouble magnets. Then he considered his own history in his present day. He laughed softly to himself.**

**Wilma laid her hand on his shoulder. "What’s on your mind, my dear?" she asked sweetly.**

**Buck repeated what he had been thinking.**

**She smirked and then nodded. "I would say that might be the reason you want to meet these people. You have that in common, anyway."**

**Two weeks, one ferret, a cat and a dog later, Frit Malcome declared the temporal processes successful. Wilma still looked dubious, but Buck was ready. He had ordered several warm sets of clothing that he felt would fit in the time frame and they had arrived that very morning. He looked at them with a great deal of satisfaction. Two pairs of jeans that Levi Strauss would have been proud of, a couple of heavy flannel shirts, one blue plaid and one red. The parka was wonderful. While it was made of materials that made it more lightweight than its twentieth century counterpart, it was just as warm as an Eskimo’s. It was the same with the boots. They looked like something a lumberjack would wear, but they weren’t heavy at all. No heavier than his exercise Nike’s he had worn back in his pre-Rip Van Winkle days. He put on one set and folded and placed the rest of the clothing into a small duffle bag.**

**When he walked out of his apartment, Buck found Wilma standing in the corridor waiting for him. She didn’t say anything, only gazed at him. He couldn’t tell exactly what was on her mind, although it was almost the same type of look she had had on her face when he had gone through the vortex. "It’s going to work fine, querida. If they…."**

**"No, I just keep wondering where these kinds of dangerous activities come from? If they multiply exponentially or if they will ever end?"**

**He sighed and then shrugged. "Wilma, I lived in a dangerous century, we live in a dangerous century. I guess it’s just part of living and breathing in this part of the universe." Buck knew it was lame, but he really didn’t know the answer.**

**"I know, but I just can’t help but worry," she replied.**

**He smiled. "Well, I’ll send you a postcard."**

**She smiled. "I would ask what you are talking about, but it would just delay the inevitable."**

**"I promise, I’ll bring one back with me."**

**"The Tunnel will let you?"**

**"I believe so. Would almost have to. It did back in the early days, with the exception of Doug and Tony, and it will have to be able to in order for the three scientists to return."**

**"If they want to come back, we can send you the materials needed for them to have a temporal signature for us to lock on," Malcome said, coming around the corridor. "But no picking up souvenirs."**

**Buck smiled guiltily. "Caught me. But seriously, I was only going to bring Wilma back a postcard."**

**"A what?"**

**"Look it up after I leave," Buck said abruptly. Now that things were lined up and ready for the take-off, he was ready to do it. Buck felt his nerves tightening with the adrenalin of impending action. Like when he was in a starfighter ready for launch. So let’s launch already, he thought.**

**"I gather you’re ready," Malcome said with a nervous smile.**

**"Yes."**

**They walked to the Tunnel, where it sat in mute splendor. The rings were lit, throbbing with power. Buck felt the tingle of excitement, but he also felt something else. He felt the physical tingle as well.**

**"Good luck, my friend," Huer said, sitting up from one of the consoles. "We have in the date you specified and the place. We should be able to both see and hear you once you arrive in Wolf Creek."**

**Buck nodded. "Then let’s get this show on the road."**

**Again, Malcome didn’t know exactly what he was talking about, but this time seemed to have the gist. "Walk straight in, Captain. You don’t have to stop, you should simply step from this plane to the temporal plane before you reach the end of the Tunnel."**

**"All right."**

**"And good luck." Malcome was watching the dials with nervous anticipation.**

**Wilma suddenly gathered him in her arms and kissed him soundly. He dropped the duffle and gave her his full attention. When they broke, they were both panting a bit. "Don’t do anything foolish, Captain Rogers," she said softly, her voice husky.**

**"I won’t. I want something like this when I come back."**

**"I promise."**

**He gathered up the bag and turned and walked into the pulsating rings. The hum became louder and louder, almost overwhelming him. Buck hesitated but then continued as he had been instructed. A sharp smell, something unknown, seemed to assail his nostrils, the light became brighter and brighter and the hum all but deafened him. Then something seemed to explode and Buck was free falling in the dazzling light. It penetrated his very core, flashing and dancing all around him. He felt as though something was squeezing him and yet he was sliding through a strange kind of space. It was similar in some ways to the vortex, and yet different. Buck was falling, helpless to do anything but watch the lights. It whirled, floated, danced and bounced in and out and around his body…..**


	5. Chapter 5

**The Tunnel almost roared with triumph, lights flashing and the power grids booming for several seconds like a pyrotechnics show, until subsiding into more tolerable level of light and sound. It reminded Wilma somewhat of the journey through the vortex and she wondered if it felt the same. She turned to Malcome. "How long before we know. Obviously, he can’t talk to us during the transition."**

**"The animal subject, a cat, went through in only a minute and five seconds. The longest time is what they referred to as the ‘radiation bath.’ The actual time to the time and place is quick because we are able to program that in."**

**"In other words, you know the destination, so the journey won’t take that long," Wilma reiterated, wanting to make sure she had understood the entirety of the process correctly. She had watched the transfer of the animal the day before, but still she felt her grasp of temporal journeying was limited.**

**"Yes, exactly. Like you pilots and the star gates. You aren’t guessing or taking the long way, so to speak. You know the gate to the place you are going and you take it."**

**She nodded. It made a great deal of sense, explained that way. She knew that this whole project had made her uneasy from the moment she found out what it was all about and that had most likely blocked her normally quick mind.**

**"Plus the fact that it’s not a relatively distant time in the past," Malcome added.**

**Wilma took a deep breath. "If there is the slightest hint of trouble after Buck gets there, I go after him."**

**Malcome’s mouth opened and shut several times, but nothing came out.**

**Dr. Huer didn’t say anything for a moment either, but his eyes showed understanding. Finally, he said, "Wilma, everything will be all right."**

**"I’m sure it will be, but I will not be separated from Buck. It took him 500 years to get to me and I will not have him stranded back 500 years without me."**

**"I understand," Huer said softly, laying his hand on hers. The group at the Tunnel continued to listen and watch as the control banks monitored Buck’s progress. The tunnel continued to flash muted blues and reds. Then two arms crept out from the inside of the Tunnel as though to meet one another. Wilma had seen that with the transfer of the cat and knew that Buck was at his destination.**

**==================================**

**Buck had felt as though the air had been sucked out of his lungs for a brief moment during his journey, so when he felt the world around him and sucked in a deep breath, he thought he was going to choke. It was bitterly cold. It was like being in the Tunnel again, but at least this had sight and sound, feeling and texture—not that emptiness that had filled him with dread and fear. But, still, it was so abominably cold. Buck had forgotten just how cold the mountains could be.**

**And in that briefest of thoughts he saw the ground rise up to meet him and he had a scant instant to try to break his fall. He only half succeeded. His shoulder hit the ground hard, but he managed to roll and then jump to his feet without feeling too klutzy. It was daylight and he blinked in the brightness of the sun on the drifts of snow between the buildings. Luckily, he was in-between two old wooden buildings—an alley of sorts. Snow was a foot and a half deep on one side and scoured from the hard ground on the other. When his eyes had become used to the light, Buck reconnoitered and was gratified to see that no one had witnessed his sudden arrival.**

**He brushed himself off, picked up his duffle bag, and then walked out of the alleyway to see an old Model-T and a horse next to each other in front of the building on his right. The building across the street was a more modern brick and wood two story structure that said, ‘Rooms for Let—by the week or the month or longer.’ Buck gazed at the black Model-T for a moment and then wandered across the road toward the boarding house. In the window, the sign announced the rates. He walked in and found a very sleepy middle-aged man dozing at the desk. Probably had the night shift, Buck thought.**

**"Excuse me," Buck said, trying not to startle the man. He looked at the clock on the wall. It said eight o’clock and the calendar next to it said it was Sunday. No wonder things seemed slow.**

**The man started anyway and jerked his head up with a slight snorting breath. His cheek was red where it had lain on his fist and he rubbed his eyes. "You’re a stranger here." Looking at the clock, he added, "And coming in early for such a cold day."**

**"Yes. It’s been a long trip," Buck answered, thinking of what an understatement that was. "I don’t think I’ll need anything for more than a night or two. Would you be able to let me stay here?"**

**"Well, kind of unusual, but I guess so. Business has been rather slow and a room for two days is better’n an empty room."**

**"I guess so. I’m here to visit my friends, Tony and Doug, and I hope they’ll loan me a couch for a few when I see them."**

**"Tony and Doug? How do you know them?" the man asked, almost instantly suspicious.**

**"From school. Way back." Again, another understatement.**

**"Where’d you grow up? You don’t sound like…. Well, you don’t sound like you come from the same place."**

**"From college. I’m originally from Chicago."**

**"Well, those two are certainly college boys. All their gadgets and gizmos…." The man peered at him carefully. "They know you comin’?"**

**Buck shook his head.**

**"They don’t get visitors and seem to like it that way."**

**"Yeah, well, Tony said he’d like to travel, but I figured that once he got that out of his system, he’d just hunker down someplace remote," Buck adlibbed.**

**The man nodded, a bit more comfortable, but still a little suspicious. "Well, the Newcomb ranch is pretty remote, being butt up against the mountain the way it is." He made a vague gesture behind him.**

**Buck took note of the direction and then thought, _Newcomb?_ Apparently Tony or Doug had used a pseudonym around here. "How long would it take to get there from here?"**

**The man peered at him closely. "How’d you get here?"**

**Shrugging, Buck gave his most endearing grin. "My thumb. Lost my car a year or so ago." He leaned forward almost conspiratorially. "I was hoping that they’d let me work on their place for grub and a bed to sleep on."**

**"Well, if that’s so, what were you planning on paying for your bed here with?"**

**Again, Buck lowered his voice. "Well, I’ve been up to Alaska—last summer—and I got a bit lucky, at least for a moment or two." He grimaced for effect. "Until someone found out how lucky I had become. Trounced me. Took most of what I had. I had a bit of my, uh, discovery, stashed where it wasn’t found and that got me back to California and then here." He hugged himself and shivered. "Sure picked a rotten time to come calling, though. It’s cold out there! Every bit as cold as it was up north!"**

**The man laughed shortly but Buck could see him exuding curiosity. "What have you got, stranger?"**

**"Name’s Buck and I have this," he said holding out his hand where a small nugget of Wesslogian gold lay glinting dully. The planet had so much that the Wesslogians traded the stuff for things it didn’t have, like copper and iron. The Directorate had salvaged quite a bit of both from ruined cities. Once the residual radioactivity was purged, it was perfect for resale. Sweet deal for both sides. The Directorate then traded with other planets for things they really needed, mainly sustaining items like pure water, food and the materials to keep the technology running that sustained the people of Earth. The barter system never went away.**

**The man gasped and then whistled. "Gotta be several ounces. And you got it in Alaska?"**

**Buck nodded and then lied, "Yes."**

**"I certainly don’t see a problem. I think you need to take it to the bank and let them give you the value."**

**"You still have a bank running these parts?"**

**"Well, there’s one in Helena and they set up a kind of branch office here. Bill Malone is here three days a week for the ranchers to bring in their payments and deposits."**

**Buck was incredulous. "And no one bothers them when they transfer this money?"**

**"Ah, they use the old Savings and Loan office and vault."**

**"Oh. Where is it?"**

**"Didn’t you see it? Just back down the road," the man hitched his thumb the opposite direction he had pointed out Tony and Doug’s place.**

**"No, I was kind of all hunched up trying to stay warm." Then Buck considered. "Today is Sunday. When’s this Malone fellow going to be in and can I, uh, give you the cash when I get it?"**

**The man shrugged and held out his hand to look at the nugget. He did the obvious thing and tried to bite it. It was a bit softer than Earth gold, so it easily got the needed result. "I’ll get a room ready."**

**"You have a telephone?"**

**The man nodded. "Sure, it’s in the sitting room there. Party line."**

**"Doug and Tony have one, too? What’s the number?"  
**

**The man looked at him quizzically again. "You just have the operator connect you. It’ll ring for them, unless the weather’s knocked the lines out."**

**"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Forgot. This isn’t Los Angeles or Chicago," Buck said, trying to save himself.**

**"Yeah, thank goodness. We may be a bit backwards to you city folks, but we have all we need, most the time," the man said a bit testily as though accused of being a hillbilly or something similar. "Except for more rain and money."**

**"No offense. Think you all have the right idea out here. Or I wouldn’t be here."**

**Mollified, the man smiled. "Yeah, you can use it while I ready a room. You hungry?"**

**Buck nodded. He didn’t know when he’d get a meal, so might as well take advantage of what he could get, when he could get it.**

**"Jody down the road has a great diner. Just tell her I sent you and that we’re good for it."**

**"Thanks. I’ll go when I have made my call."**

**"Okay," he said. "Sign the register, please."**

**Buck did so, not even trying to hide his identity. "By the way, what do I call you?"**

**"Dick Morgan. Glad to meet’cha, Buck." Morgan shook his hand, got up and then headed up the stairs.**

**Buck decided that it was now or never and walked into the sitting room. The phone was very old fashioned, one of the crank jobbies. But he knew enough to be able to use it. Hell, he thought, he had watched Lassie when he was a kid. He pulled down the bell shaped receiver and then turned the crank several times. A pleasant, but slightly tinny voice came on the line. "What party are you calling, please?"**

**"The Newcomb Ranch, Tony or Doug. If they aren’t available, I can talk to Ann."**

**There was a slight pause and then, "Yes, sir. One moment."**

**There was some static, a click and then a woman’s voice said ‘hello.’ The operator said the obvious. "Your party, sir."**

**"Ann McGregor?" Buck decided to just plunge in. He figured that this was Ann, sincerely doubting that they would want anyone like a servant around, even if they were rich enough to have any. And certainly there wouldn’t be relatives who would either be alive or able to believe kin popping in from the future.**

**"Who is this?" came the reply, instantly suspicious in tone. Buck heard the sounds and chatter of a young child in the background.**

**"My name is Buck. I assure you, I am a friend, not only to you, but also to Tony and Doug. However, I have been told that this is a party line so I don’t think that it would be wise to say any more over the phone, ma’am."**

**There was a very long pause and Buck almost spoke up. Then she asked, "Where are you . . . Buck?"**

**"The Morgan boarding house in Wolf Creek."**

**"It’s the only boarding house in Wolf Creek," she said dryly. "I will tell Doug that you called."**

**Before he could finish saying, ‘thank you’ she had hung up the phone and all he heard was the whispering of other voices—or maybe it was breathing of people listening in. Buck hung up the receiver and walked out of the room. In the distance he heard the sound of church bells and he zipped up his coat and headed out the door, duffle still hanging off his shoulder. Following Morgan’s directions, he was soon at the diner. However, it was closed. The sign told him the obvious, ‘Closed on Sundays.’ Apparently, Morgan forgot about that little detail. He looked down the wide street and saw several older model cars chugging toward the church. They occasionally bounced ominously as they hit potholes in the road. With a shrug, he decided to head toward the church. At least it would be warmer.**

**The wind seemed determined to force its way down his collar, into his nasal passages and all the way into his bones. He couldn’t get into the church doors fast enough. Buck figured it would have to be warmer to snow. Apparently a lot of other folks had the same idea. The church was packed. Of course, the preacher seemed very happy. At the door, he shook Buck’s hand as though pumping for oil and then motioned him on in, reaching for another hand. Buck didn’t hesitate, the further in the better. With the back door open, there were no back row worshippers during this meeting.**

**As he sat down on the hard, cold bench, he looked around, taking in the depression era fashions. Most of the clothing appeared worn, which didn’t surprise him. The expressions were fervent, which also didn’t surprise him, but somber. He had heard his parents talking about the Depression and figured there was no joy in Mudville here, so to speak. He looked at his watch he had reset from the wall clock in Morgan’s place. It was 10:30 and the pastor breezed up the aisle, his expression fervent as well. Buck half-listened to the man, feeling suddenly lethargic. That trip through the tunnel must have taken a great deal more out of him than he first thought. Halfway through the meeting, Buck dozed a bit, jerking awake during music that turned out to be the closing song. Looking around, though, he noticed that he wasn’t alone. Others were also slowly coming back to life.**

**After the benediction, Buck got up, steeling himself for the walk back to the boarding house. At least he’d have a warm place to stay while he waited for Doug’s response. He hunched over in the even more brisk wind and almost ran back to the boarding house. Morgan had returned to his desk and smiled at him as Buck undid his coat. Not knowing how quickly the time travelers would react to his phone call, Buck wasn’t going to mention to the man the mistake about the diner. He had a Directorate sustenance bar in his duffle bag.**

**"Room 12, up the stairs and to the left," Morgan said, handing him an old-fashioned skeleton key.**

**"Thanks. Think I’ll go up and try to get warm."**

**"Bathroom’s at the end of the hall. Just work out a bath schedule with the other tenants and you’ll be okay," Morgan told him.**

**Buck forgot about that particular of life in the earlier part of the twentieth century, but he only nodded and thanked Morgan. Then he dashed up the steps, as much to get warm as to get to his room. It was a comfortable room, though small and Buck gazed at the bed. That was the main feature. It felt strange being in a sort of motel and not having a TV or a bathroom, just a bed, nightstand, and wardrobe. It also had a couple of wing chairs in two of the corners and Buck strode over and dumped the duffle bag in one of them. He unzipped the coat and tossed it on the back of the chair. His stomach growled and he dug into the bag and pulled out one of the sustenance bars. They weren’t much, insofar as taste was concerned, but they would do what they were named for—sustain him. After he had eaten the pasty thing, Buck decided that all he could do was wait. There was a magazine on the nightstand. A June, 1935, Saturday Evening Post. He lay down on the bed and began looking through the periodical. The old-fashioned radiator clanged reassuringly, telling him that there was heat on the way.**

**When the knock came, it startled the magazine off his chest where it had apparently rested when he dozed off. The knock came again.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Buck swung off the bed and began walking to the door. Before he even got there, the knob turned and the door swung open. He had neglected to lock it, but knew that normally, in this time, that wasn’t as big an issue as it had been in his before he had gone up in his ship.**

**Perhaps it was an issue. As soon as the man, whom he recognized to be Doug Phillips, walked through the door, he pulled out a pistol; a very large .45 to be exact. Buck, for once, was at a loss for words. This wasn’t exactly what he expected, but then instantly reconsidered. What other reaction? "I’m not one of the Air Force bozos who took over your Tunnel," he said quickly. "If you'll ask questions first and shoot later, I'll be happy to explain."**

**Doug Phillips started, but then his features became even harder. He closed the door behind him and did what Buck had forgotten to do--locked it. "Then perhaps you tell me just who you are," he said coldly. "I know that Jerry closed the Tunnel and sealed the complex, so you have to be one of the men who was running it then. How did you get past Jerry? Did you kill him?"**

**Buck could see that the stress of this threat had made Phillips less than analytical. On the other hand, if Ricker hadn’t contacted them again after Becker’s death, how was Doug Phillips to know someone else hadn’t been able to get in the complex and then to the trio who had hidden in time? "Look, Dr. Phillips, I really am not one of your enemies. Jerry had been dead for almost five hundred years when we discovered him. So getting past him wasn’t an issue." Buck didn’t say anymore, only let the information filter past Phillips’ anxiety.**

**The gun wavered but didn’t move from its aim at Buck’s chest. "The future?" he asked, startled. Buck nodded. "But how? And how do I know you’re telling me the truth?"**

**Buck sighed. He had been so intent on getting to this point, that he hadn’t figured on having to prove himself. "I guess that’s a good question, Dr. Phillips. I suppose the only thing I can do is to tell you my story and let you decide. Obviously you have the upper hand…."**

**"Yes, I do and I have a very good reason for keeping it that way. You can’t imagine how little it will take for me to simply kill you and hopefully discourage anyone else from coming back here."**

**Buck saw the desperation in Phillip’s eyes and knew that it had been a stupid move coming like this—perhaps in coming at all. How in the world could he convince this man, who had so much to lose and whose hold on any kind of stability seemed so tenuous right now—how could Buck convince him that he wasn’t a threat?**

**Phillips continued. "You can’t imagine what I’ve been through and how hard I have been trying to keep my family from being found. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be displaced, out of touch with everything you knew, did, could relate to?" There was fire in the scientist’s eyes; a very dangerous fire.**

**As Phillips began to open his mouth to speak again, Buck said quietly, fervently, "Yes, I do."**

**Doug didn’t say anything for several moments, only keeping the gun steady. Buck could tell he was thinking furiously. "I doubt it, but you know, by telling me that you’re from the future, you’re really pushing your credibility. You trying to tell me there is a future after that—that horror?"**

**"Well, not much of one for a while, but yes, Earth is a viable force in the 25th century, even while still trying to dig up out of its past." Buck motioned to the chair with his duffle bag. "Look through my stuff and see if you find any contraband, then perhaps we can sit down and talk."**

**Phillips appeared unsure, staring hard at Buck as though he might be able to read his mind. "I, uh, I need to contact my partner, or he’ll be in here to back me up," Doug said hesitantly.**

**Buck nodded and tried to keep his voice calm and even a little up beat. "Tony Newman? Invite him in. There’s another chair to sit in, although it appears to be a little lumpy."**

**With his eyes still locked onto Buck’s, Doug Phillips spoke softly into what appeared to be a very nicely built version of one of his own Directorate communicators. Buck wasn’t surprised. These two were not only from this time’s future; they were top-notch scientists. What did surprise him, though, was the fact that Doug Phillips didn’t look more than eight or so years older than his picture on file in the Tunnel archives. Whereas they had been lost for almost twenty years, or something like that, Buck thought, trying to do the math and getting a bit muddled in the temporal aspects of these men’s journeys, Doug looked not much older than he had when he stepped into the Tunnel for the first time. He figured Tony would be the same. Was it all the temporal jumping around that wangled their body clocks? Was time travel the fountain of youth? Some fountain, Buck mused.**

**For want of anything better to do, Buck supposed, Doug began to paw through the duffle, even while still keeping the gun on him. While the barrel of the Colt still pointed at his middle made him nervous, Buck was very empathetic to the scientist’s suspicious nature. If the roles had been reversed, he would have had the other man pinned to the wall and trying to choke the information from him. Buck had dreamed of having Col. Becker in front of him and there had been several scenarios that had presented him with equally satisfying results. Unfortunately, the war advocates were just as dead as their victims; some of whose bones had moldered in the complex for 500 years since the day of destruction.**

**The scientist held up the plastic wrapper of the bar Buck had eaten a couple of hours previously. "What’s this?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion.**

**"Just in case I wasn’t able to get local chow, I was sent with a couple of those sustenance bars. Not very tasty, I tell you, but there’s another one in the side pocket if you want to try it."**

**"Some of the writing seems to be in code," Phillips mused, still studying the wrapper. Then he looked up sharply, his eyes glinting harder, if that was possible. "You seem to have a great deal of twentieth century vernacular for someone from the 25th century." The gun seemed to resolve itself on Buck’s belly button.**

**"That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, it’s a very convoluted story. I guess I wouldn’t have even tried to come back if I hadn’t been so intent on seeing someone from my own century again," Buck replied. "Seriously, I have a very vested interested in the days surrounding what has come to be called the Great Holocaust."**

**"Your own century? What the hell are you trying to tell me? First you’re saying you’re from the future and now from the 20th century? What kind of…." There was a knock and Doug walked backward to the door and unlocked it. He opened it a crack took a quick glance. Then he opened it wide enough to admit Tony Newman. As Buck had suspected, Newman didn’t look as though he had aged that much either, perhaps a little less.**

**"Join the crowd," Buck said, motioning to the bed and then moving slowly in that direction. "We might as well get comfortable." He knew he was taking a chance, but it was all he had. In the back of his mind, Buck wondered why Malcome hadn’t just jerked him back to the Tunnel.**

**"Hold it."**

**Buck held his hands up. "Just moving the luggage."**

**"Okay, move it and then sit on the bed. Chairs have a back and mine wants some support," Tony said with a grimace of pain. He had studied Buck from the moment he had walked in the door and in him seemed to be more curiosity than animosity, although there was suspicion in his features. Of course, Doug had a wife and kid to think about, too.**

**When the two men had sat down, Phillips glanced at his partner. The gun never wavered. "Tony, he’s been double-talking me. Either he’s a very stupid agent, or we’re in for a really whacked out story." Then the eyes bored back into Buck’s. "Okay, you have the chance to save yourself some discomfort. Sit down. Who are you?"**

**"Captain William Anthony Rogers, to give you my proper legal name, although my friends call me Buck."**

**"Captain of what?" Phillips asked, his eyes hard.**

**"Captain in the Earth Defense Directorate, year 2494. Until temporarily assigned to the Tunnel, I was a senior officer on board the scientific and exploratory star ship, _Searcher_."**

**The two scientists glanced at one another and then back to him.**

**Buck continued. "But in order to give you the entire reason I am here; the one I hinted at, I have to start back to my origins. My rank transferred from my standing in the United States Air Force." Phillips and Newman cringed. Buck forged ahead. "I was born in 1956\. I was thirty-one when my experimental long range spacecraft, Ranger 3, malfunctioned. That was just less than six months before the nuclear devastation destroyed everything I had known and loved, including my family. At the time it happened I was cryonically frozen in my capsule and didn’t have a clue what was going on. That was why, Dr. Phillips, I told you I knew just what it was like to lose everything. I did lose everything. I lost more than you can imagine."**

**The two scientists did more than glance at each other; they started as if they had been shot. "I think you’d better give us some more details," Tony said quietly. The voice was even and Buck couldn’t tell what Tony’s disposition was. Doug was almost as inscrutable.**

**And Buck did, telling them as much about his pre-space mission life as he thought they needed or wanted to hear, and giving them everything pertinent to the situation after his awakening in the 25th century, including the discovery of the Tunnel.**

**"I can’t believe that Becker, or one of his men, would come up with something that cock-eyed. Still…. I guess the question begs to be asked," Doug began, still holding his weapon steady. "What is your intention for the Tunnel?"**

**"At first I only had thoughts of going back and changing what happened. The Directorate head, Dr. Elias Huer, had the same idea, too. You know, preventing the nukes from being fired. But after reading Jerry Ricker’s entire journal, I don’t think it’s possible. And even if it is, I don’t think…."**

**There was another knock at the door. All three men looked up, surprised. Buck gained his equilibrium first. "Maybe Morgan felt sorry for me when he realized the diner wasn’t open," he quipped, trying to relax a bit more. It was hard to tell, but it appeared that Phillips was a bit less anxious. He looked at the man or more particularly, the gun in his hand. "You want me to answer it?"**

**Doug looked puzzled a moment and then glanced down at the object of Buck’s attention. "Yes, go ahead, but don’t try anything. You may not have realized it, but Tony’s got one, too."**

**Of course he would, thought Buck, but at least Tony was less obvious about it. With Doug’s pronouncement, Tony slipped his hand over the bulge in his pants pocket. Buck slowly walked to the door and opened it. He was totally flabbergasted at who was on the other side, although he couldn’t help but be grateful for Wilma’s presence. Regardless, he would have preferred the Tunnel scientists just plucking him out of here, though, instead of her showing up in front of two jumpy, armed men. "Uh, what? Wilma, what the hell are you doing here?" She was dressed in a cold weather parka, like the one he had brought, but underneath he could tell that she was in her Directorate uniform, the blue shiny one that she wore when off duty. Oh, boy, he thought, that would go well in this time and place, and his thoughts became unworthy of the sermon he had heard earlier in the day.**

**With an innocent smile, she patted him on the cheek and slid into the room. "Are you going to introduce me to Drs. Phillips and Newman?" She nodded to each and then turned back to Buck. "Oh, and by the way, Hawk showed up. Dr. Huer promised him a look at his people’s history once the Tunnel probe system was working. He negotiated the access port as well as you did." Suddenly a laser pistol was in her hand and she was gazing intently at the two surprised men. "Buck, take their guns. And if you have any other hidden weapons, gentlemen, I would advise you to give them to my partner."**

**"Uh, Wilma, everything’s cool. No shooting, no unpleasantness," Buck assured her. "We are working on solving any hostilities."**

**"I wouldn’t call it totally pleasant," she returned. "Not what I saw."**

**"I don’t blame them, Wilma. They have every right to be suspicious."**

**Wilma didn’t waver and Doug placed the gun on the nightstand. Buck collected it and Tony’s smaller gun, putting the larger in his waistband and the smaller in his pocket. Phillip’s features seemed resigned, almost despairing. "Who are you?" he asked. Then he sighed. "All we have wanted is to be left alone, especially by those who commandeered our creation."**

**"I know, Dr. Phillips, and I’m sorry. I insisted on coming through before I understood all of the ramifications," Buck offered and then turned to Wilma. "This is my boss and fiancé, Colonel Wilma Deering, formerly head of the Earth Directorate's Defense forces and currently second in command of _Searcher,_" Buck said by way of introduction. He smiled softly, trying to reassure them. "I don't think she liked the look of your Colt .45, Dr. Phillips."**

**Wilma unzipped and then shrugged out of her parka, hanging it on the end of the bed. Tony and Doug gaped at the skintight utility outfit. "I was in a hurry, gentlemen," Wilma said by way of explanation. To Buck's amusement, she had colored slightly at their unabashed perusal. "Can I assume that you approve of 25th century military fashion?" she finally asked. The two men said nothing, but Tony Newman finally nodded. "I brought something that might help you to believe we are exactly who and what we claim to be." Buck recognized it as a portable vid-player. She handed it to Buck. "Would you show them how that works, Buck?"**

**Buck nodded and handed the device to Tony, pointing to the buttons that would begin whatever program or vid-cast that they had sent. The dark-haired scientist seemed to have exchanged any animosity for complete curiosity. Doug, he wasn’t so sure of. Then Buck stepped back and let the two men watch. He could see from the side that it was views of the _Searcher _from an external source. It changed to some inside shots and Buck recognized what it was. This was Hawk’s and he had loaned it trying to give credence to Buck’s story. There were also shots of he and Wilma flying over the Grand Canyon in quasi-wings. Parts of the canyon showed damage from the nuclear holocaust. Short glimpses of New Chicago, Easter Islands, the damaged Andes Mountains, and Hawk as well. Finally there were scenes of Throm, stark and beautiful at the same time. Buck had not known that Hawk had vid-recorded anything, much less so much. He probably had the capability within his spacecraft. Buck felt a deep gratitude that Hawk would send something that was apparently private to save his butt. Then he realized that Hawk was probably at the Tunnel for that express purpose.**

**Finally, the two scientists looked up. "Uh, Colonel, we believe you and Captain Rogers are exactly who you say you are," Tony said quietly. "You can put your . . . gun away."**

**Wilma smiled and lowered the weapon, and then finally put it away in its holster. She left the safety latch unhooked, though and then she turned to Buck, a knowing look on her face. "Who was that politician you said talked quietly and carried bigger armaments than the other person?"**

**Buck chuckled. "Teddy Roosevelt, who said, "Speak softly and carry a big stick." He turned to the two scientists. "I believe that illustrates the main reason Dr. Huer and his staff wanted to open and utilize the Tunnel. Much, if not most, of Earth's history was lost during the first dark years after the Great Holocaust. Most of the people who were left were too busy trying to stay alive to think about preserving what had come before the bombs."**

**"Until we found the Tunnel, Buck was a main source of information of pre-Holocaust days," Wilma interjected.**

**"And needless to say, I am no historian."**

**"Earlier you said something about being his fiancé? Congratulations," said Doug. "So you mainly want to use the Tunnel to rediscover history. That is a worthy ambition, but were you going to send someone back in history as you did today? You said something about a probe program." He sighed. "And can I assume that you have figured out and overcome the problems that we had back before we were lost?"**

**"Many have already been overcome. That's why we were able to come as close to where I wanted as we did. Six days before Christmas, 1935," Buck said. "While they are historically non-savvy, 25th century scientists are a pretty sharp group. They took what Jerry Ricker had left, what was in the computer files and then studied until they figured out how to first bring the complex back online and then send different things back in time." Buck nodded to both of them. "My congratulations on the invention of a phenomenal device of technology and engineering."**

**"It didn't help the people of Earth any, did it?" Doug growled. "So again I ask, why come back and see us? What do you want from us? As I said before, we came here trying to stay out of reach."**

**"Out of reach of those pro-war maniacs?" Buck ventured. "To be honest, we wanted some of your input. And I guess my other thought was to at least have an excuse to spend a bit of time in my own century."**

**"Is there something more?" Tony asked in a low voice.**

**Buck shook his head. "Well, if anything, I just wanted to meet the people who had built that complex. I have to admit that it was a better journey here than the one I took to the 25th century." Tony gazed at him curiously without saying anything.**


	7. Chapter 7

**"Did you pay for this room already?" Doug asked, looking around at the Spartan furnishings.**

**"That’s a fairly silly question, Doug," Tony quipped. "With money as scarce as it is and Morgan as tight as he is, what do you think?"**

**"As a matter of fact, I haven’t," Buck said. "All I had to do was show him this little chunk of Wesslogian gold and he was caught— hook, line and sinker."**

**Tony grinned as he peered at the nugget lying in Buck’s palm. "It looks real."**

**"It is real. Just not terrestrial," Buck replied.**

**"Where did you tell him you got it?" Doug asked.**

**"Alaska, the last great gold rush."**

**Doug chuckled. "Gather your things. I’m good for the…. How many nights did you tell him you’d pay for?"**

**"A couple. I was going to get some cash for this when the bank was open."**

**"I’m good for that. I want you and Col. Deering to come home with us."**

**"You can stay at my place and the colonel…." Tony began.**

**"Look, if we are going to be friendly, I’m Wilma." Her eyes flashed and her hands rested firmly on her shapely hips.**

**Buck couldn’t resist. He walked over and wrapped his arm around her waist. "I’m game for being friendly," he said, relieved that things had worked out so well, that she was here, that both of them had made it in one piece, and that they had found the scientists.**

**"We have a problem," Tony commented dryly.**

**With reluctance, Buck pulled himself from Wilma and gave his attention to the scientist. "And that is?"**

**"Our truck only holds three decently in the cab."**

**Buck knew instantly what that meant and decided to deflect it immediately. "I’m not decent. Wilma is my fiancé and I sure don’t mind her sitting on my lap." Tony studied his face and nodded when he saw that Buck’s mind was made up. _Sure is, _the Directorate pilot thought. Tony was still very handsome and he wasn’t going to sit in the bed of the truck while Wilma sat up there with two handsome men, one of whom he assumed was still very eligible. He handed Wilma her parka.**

**"Be a bit crowded," Tony said with a crooked smile.**

**"That’s okay. Wilma and I have shared a small cockpit before."**

**She looked hard at him. "You shared the back seat with Twiki and Dr. Theopolis," she said wryly. "Are you mixing me up with someone else? Someone you haven’t told me about?" Buck felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment, and then he saw the slight twinkle in her eyes and relaxed.**

**"Twiki?" Doug asked, a puzzled tone in his voice.**

**Tony looked as though he was ready to say something. Buck interjected, "I’ll tell you on the way."**

**They all left the room together, but Tony and Doug went out for the truck while Buck settled up. When Doug had handed him the money to pay for the room, Buck had wondered, but decided that the two men needed to talk privately. Despite the scientists’ claim to trust them, it was still too early. They had too much to lose and so little control over the situation. That had to make them nervous.**

**As it was, Buck was right. The two time travelers hunkered down in their warm sheepskin lined parkas and crossed the street to their truck. The wind was howling like a banshee. "You totally believe them?" Doug asked his partner.**

**Tony took a deep breath underneath his hood, feeling the warmth. He remembered just how anxious he had been when Doug had told him of the stranger’s call. That anxiety had deepened when they drove into town. But now? Yes, he did believe them and he told his friend that. "Buck’s story is too weird to be anything but the truth. Think about how we’d sound if we tried to tell someone our story."**

**"I tend to agree with you, but we also know, from Jerry’s communications, just how devious Becker was, too," said Doug. He shook his head before continuing. "Yes, Tony, I think they’re on the up and up, but I’m not quite ready to welcome them with open arms."**

**"Then why the invite to the ranch? To keep a closer eye on them?"**

**"Yes, if they are legit, then they will be more comfortable there. If they aren’t…."**

**Doug didn’t have to finish his thought; he knew what they would have to do if Buck and Wilma were Becker’s people. "I also want to examine that video that Col. Deering showed us a bit more closely. Ask more questions and just watch them." He jerked open the truck door and slid in. "Let me get a hold of Ann before they meet us."**

**The trip along alternately graveled and rutted frozen dirt roads took about as long as it took Buck to explain his first adventure on Ardala’s ship and subsequent rescue by Wilma.**

**"I’d have been catatonic in a place and time as different and strange as what you have described to us and what you showed us in the hotel room," Tony said, moving back as Doug shifted and slowed the truck to turn into the entrance of a wooden-gated road.**

**Doug glanced at the pair scrunched against the passenger door and then sighed and pulled on his mittens. "I’ll get the gate open." He slid out of the truck and slammed the door shut behind him, but not before a gust of bitterly cold air took the small amount of heat they had generated inside the cab.**

**================================**

**Ever since the call from the stranger had arrived, Ann McGregor Phillips had been nervous. Even more so since Doug and Tony had left. It was the nightmare all over again. During the first year they had been here, Ann had jumped at every noise, felt the pulse of fear like the beating of her own heart. Not even the birth of little Tony had eased the fear, only made it worse. Only in the past year, when they had been here in Montana for a while, did she feel that they might make this work.**

**Of course, then had come the realization that they had brought into the world a child who would most likely live to see the destruction that had brought about with the Tunnel and man’s ability to traverse time. Not only that but the child she was carrying…. She was a scientist, a supposedly enlightened woman, but she couldn’t take the precautions to prevent the conception of another child? To keep another child from going through that horrible time? Ann sighed deeply. As she prepared the roast for the Sunday meal, Ann wondered what Doug and Tony were going to find. Would Becker and his men be waiting? This Buck sounded sincere, but that didn’t mean anything. Gen. Kirk’s successor had sounded sincere, too. Like someone’s dear sweet uncle. Some uncle, she mused. The jerk had only been Becker’s pet.**

**Little Tony fussed and Ann put aside her fears for the moment; at least enough hide her agitation from the toddler. She picked him up and hugged him, then pulled out one of the smaller carrots from the pile that was going to go in with the roast. He took it in his chubby little fist and stuffed it into his mouth, gumming it with a vengeance. Little Tony’s teething didn’t help the situation any. The tip of the carrot came off with a snap as the front teeth were shown off.**

**Ann tossed the rest of the carrots in with the roast that nestled in the middle of the porcelain covered roasting pan. She had never considered herself a domestic person. Certainly those last years at the complex didn’t hone anything but her worry and the beginnings of gray hair. At first when she had come here, she had savored the rich succulence of the T-bones and rib-eye steaks that Doug and Tony provided from their new enterprise of ranching. But when she had married Doug and become the ‘little woman’ of the house, as one of the women in Wolf Creek had told her, she knew she was in over her head. Surprisingly, it was Tony who came more to her rescue than anyone. He had lived with several relatives during his growing up years and had learned many ‘domestic’ skills. Not the least of which was cooking. Ann smiled. She would have burned water if it had been left to her.**

**Thankfully, Doug and Tony’s resources had allowed for a few of the most recent technological advances, advanced even more by thirty-year future knowledge. Too bad they couldn’t market them and live in a bit more affluence. Of course, doing that would call attention to themselves and take revenues from those who would eventually invent some of these energy and time saving devices. Still and all, gardening, preserving and storing things in root cellars, and all the other attendant duties of housewives in this day and age wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.**

**Ann gazed at the clock ticking on the wall, the little pendulum swinging back and forth with merry abandon. They had been gone for well over an hour, almost an hour and a half. Little Tony wiggled and Ann put him down on the rug to let him explore around under the dining room table. The ginger cat, lounging quietly on one of the chairs, saw the little commando coming and got up, stretched and sauntered through the slightly open door to probably continue her nap in front of the fireplace hearth. That was something else. Central heat. There wasn’t any and sometimes the kitchen was the only warm refuge in the middle of winter. Well, she corrected herself, when Doug was home; he was the best and warmest refuge.**

**She straightened up and stretched. Her back was hurting anyway. The new baby was getting larger and larger and making it almost impossible for her to carry little Tony around. Of course, the toddler didn’t understand all of that, just patted her ballooning stomach every once in a while to point out the obvious. What did she have, another month? A little less, she thought, counting. It couldn’t come soon enough. Then she remembered what would happen in only a bit more than fifty years from now. She remembered and felt remorse all over again. Doug had promised to build a very sturdy bomb shelter, but what good would that do after the bombs had stopped falling? And what about their children’s children? How could they all be saved?**

**Tony chortled happily, crawling over and under the rungs of the chairs and Ann finished preparing the roast and slipped it in the oven. It would be ready by dinner. If there was dinner. Again, she wondered who this Buck was. That he had come through the Tunnel there was no doubt in her mind. She remembered the conversation, especially his reassurance that he was a friend. Doug would find out. He and Tony were very good, after all the people they had run across during their travels in time, at feeling out human character—who was friend and who could be an enemy. However, it scared her that Doug had taken a revolver with him, but it scared her more what he would find. That Tony had taken a weapon, too, she didn’t doubt. What they would do with this Buck if he were one of Becker’s agents frightened her. Softly she cursed Becker and all he stood for, all he had caused, or would cause. Then she sighed. Doug had promised that if all possible, he would contact her. They had their own mobile system that was independent of the local phone system; more on the order of a wireless or CB type of communication.**

**Still, when little Tony found a spoon that had been dropped and missed under the table and started banging it on the rung of a chair, she started and let out a soft cry. Ann chided herself for her needless worry. The boys would take care of it, in whatever fashion they deemed best for their family. And Doug would contact her. He had promised. She called softly to the toddler and when he came out from under the table, she gathered him up. He nestled painfully on her stomach. There was nothing in here that needed doing until the leg of lamb was nearly done, so she might as well go into the living room and enjoy the warmth of the fire.**

**She picked up the small communicator and put it in the pocket of her apron. When she sat down in the overstuffed chair, little Tony got restless. Usually this chair and her relaxing indicated a meal. He was more than old enough for solid food, and he was eating a variety of things now, but still he wanted her milk every once in a while. Or at least he wanted the comfort that nursing provided because she didn’t really have anything to offer him these days. It had amazed her that somehow, all those who had said she wouldn’t be able to conceive while nursing, had been wrong. Little Tony pulled at her blouse and she let him. He would get nothing but it was soothing to him and most of the time it was soothing to her, too. That is when he didn’t accidentally bite with those new front teeth of his.**

**Ann let him nuzzle at her for the few minutes that it took him to settle down, letting some of her tension drain away, too. It wouldn’t all go away, but having her little boy on her chest, dozing and the other one gently moving inside her stomach relaxed her. Enough so that when the communicator buzzed, she started slightly, which woke up little Tony. He looked questioningly at her while she fumbled for the pocket and pulled out the communicator.**

**Pressing the button, she put it to her ear. "Doug?"**

**"Sweetheart, we’re bringing home a couple of friends for dinner," he said almost noncommittally. She was unable to tell if he was pleased or not. Her worry increased.**

**"Friends? Plural? And this Buck is legit?"**

**He hesitated. "Believe so, dearest." He hesitated, as though wanting to say something else, but finally he added, "It is a long story, though." She could hear the wind howling loudly into the little communicator. "We’ll let Buck and Wilma tell you when we get there."**

**"Wilma? He has a companion?"**

**"Yes, she is a most liberated woman." This time he seemed more upbeat.**

**"Anyway, warm up the radio and listen for the weather report out of Billings. Feels like weather’s brewing and Tony and I may need to prepare the livestock for something more than a quick storm."**

**"Barometer’s been dropping all day, dear," she informed him.**

**"We’ll get there as fast as we can. Just getting ready to leave town."**

**"All right, darling. Thanks for calling." He gave his love and cut the communications.**

**Ann sighed deeply in relief. While he had not been overwhelmingly enthusiastic, at least he didn’t sound like he was being coerced, at least not at the end of the conversation. It was as though a load had been taken off her shoulders. Little Tony looked questioningly at her. "Daddy?"**

**She smiled and nodded. "Daddy." At first it had irritated her slightly that he had said Daddy before Mommy, but that was okay. Little Tony had actually said ‘kitty’ before he had called out to his father.**

**"You come with me and let’s fix some coffee for our guests." As soon as the coffee was brewing in the coffee pot, she went back into the living room and switched on the radio. She dialed up Billings and turned the volume up. Another log on the fire would be good. It was getting chilly in the house. When they got home, Doug would fire up the coal stove in the basement and the house would heat up properly. She would have done that herself, but since she was getting so big, he had insisted that she not go up and down the narrow, dark stairs. Feeling as clumsy as she had lately, Ann hadn’t argued.**

**The small basement was something he had insisted on when they had enlarged the original cabin and made a proper house. The builders thought he was crazy wanting a hole in the ground under the house, but Doug had insisted and now in the winter, they had nice heat. It hadn’t been difficult to create the conduits for heat and there was even a thermostat of sorts that would damp the stove when it got hot enough in the house. She smiled and felt grateful. While the anxiety had been almost unbearable when they first settled here permanently, most of the time it wasn’t a bad existence.**

**Sometime later, almost long enough to let her start worrying again; she heard the truck rattling up the driveway and stop in front of the house. The door opened and Doug stepped in, immediately crossing the room and pulling her tightly against him, or at least as tightly as he could get. He kissed her soundly, picked up his son and kissed him, and then turned to their guests. "Ann, darling, this is Captain Buck Rogers and Colonel Wilma Deering."**


	8. Chapter 8

**"Thank you so much for your hospitality, Mrs. Phillips," Wilma said with a bright smile. She pulled off her parka and Ann almost gasped at the skin-tight outfit the woman was wearing.**

**"You’re welcome," Ann finally stammered out. "What are you colonel in?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.**

**Captain Rogers grinned. "Same reaction I had the first time I saw Wilma, and she was in her regulation white uniform then."**

**He blushed as soon as he said it, but before he could say anything else, Wilma Deering cuffed him on the shoulder and growled, "Buck!"**

**"Uh, well, somewhat different reaction," he corrected himself. "Sorry."**

**"I have some coffee brewing," Ann said, not sure just what to make of that entrance or these two people.**

**"Oh, I have died and gone to heaven," Buck sighed. "Real, honest to goodness, twentieth century coffee? Not instant or decaf or simulated?"**

**Ann’s eyebrow shot up several degrees. "The only kind you can get around these parts and this time."**

**"By the way, I’m sorry that I frightened you with that phone call, Dr. Phillips."**

**Ann looked at Doug, but then saw that Rogers was looking directly at her. He was addressing her by her title? She didn’t say anything, just gazed at him.**

**"I just didn’t know any other way to say it," he added. "You know, party lines and all."**

**"I understand, Captain," Ann finally replied.**

**"Please, I’m Buck to my friends," Rogers added.**

**"And I’m Wilma."**

**Ann turned her eyes to her husband, now peeling off his gloves. He simply nodded. She turned back to their guests. "And just call me Ann." She studied Wilma again, wondering at the attire. "I would guess you didn’t come totally prepared for your trip." It wasn’t that she resented this addition to the game plan, as Doug used to call Tunnel activities, but the idea that this Wilma was so very obviously fit and trim and showing it off, whether she thought she was or not, while Ann was monstrously and uncomfortably pregnant, irritated her just a bit.**

**Wilma didn’t say anything for a brief moment and then smiled. Her eyes showed what Ann decided was at least a small amount of understanding. "No, when your husband pulled out the gun, I was anxious enough to pull rank and insist they send me through, too."  
**

**"Well, your appearance did lend credence to Buck’s story," Doug interjected, putting the toddler down on the braided rug in the middle of the living room. "What does the radio say?"**

**"They are calling it a big blow, dear," Ann answered. "But a quick one. An Alberta clipper straight from the north. A day, maybe two at the most."**

**"Okay, I’m going out to help Tony, then. Put enough out for the livestock to eat on in case we can’t get out for a day or so." He turned toward the door, but when she followed him, he turned and gathered his wife in his arms again, his back to their guests. "I am almost a hundred percent positive they are not Becker’s people, but just in case, keep an eye on them and if they do anything funny, call me," he whispered in her ear.**

**"I will, Doug." He pulled on his hat and gloves.**

**"I’m not ranch hand, but will it help if I come and give you two a hand?" Buck asked from the doorway into the large dining/living room.**

**"You don’t have to do this…." Doug began and then stopped. "Yeah, it will help us all to get back in sooner."**

**"Just tell me what to do, then," Buck replied and re-buttoned his parka.**

**"First get a pair of gloves," Doug said, pointing to a small shelf by the door. "And tie that hood tight, or you’ll lose it."**

**Buck grinned as he took the gloves and pulled them on. "Reminds me of my academy days. It was pretty cold there, too." With that, the three men left, a gust of bitter cold the only witness of their passage out of the house.**

**"I’m sorry, why don’t you sit down. I’ll have coffee ready in a short while and dinner will be ready in a few hours," Ann told Wilma. "And that will give you the opportunity to tell me how you managed to find us." She tried to keep the tension out of her voice, but it was difficult not to think of the fact that they were found, no matter that these people said they were friends.**

**"Why don’t I help you?" Wilma suggested. "It will make whatever has to be done here easier."**

**"All right," Ann said with a mental shrug. Doug had asked her to watch and assess. What better way then to see the other woman in action? She felt the communicator safe in her pocket. Little Tony was sitting on the floor, looking wistfully toward the door where he had last seen his daddy.**

**"What can I do to help?" Wilma asked, looking around the room as though she didn’t know where to start first.**

**Could it be, Ann thought, that there was someone less domestic than she was? "Well, I almost hate to ask…."**

**"Look, I used to be lost enough in Buck’s haphazard twentieth century apartment in New Chicago, his retro pad, I think he used to call it. I’m even more lost here. Just point me in the right direction, give me some simple instructions and I’ll be able to do whatever you ask," Wilma said with a reassuring smile.**

**Ann felt the charm of this woman and began to warm up to her, even if she seemed rather show-offish in her slinky ‘uniform.’ "I haven’t been able to comfortably wash dishes for almost a month now. Not fun doing them sideways. Doug has been sweet enough to do them most of the time; Tony at other times."**

**"No problem, Ann," Wilma began and then looked around.**

**Ann realized what the problem was. "No dishwashers in this time."**

**"I was getting that idea," Wilma said wryly. She picked up a box of soap flakes and read the box. "This the cleaner?"**

**"Yes, you don’t need much," Ann said quickly before Wilma began shaking some of the soap into the sink. She needn’t have worried, though. After a moment the newcomer seemed to understand what was needed and was soon running water into the sink. Only a few instructions were necessary after that and Wilma was quickly putting the dishes into the sink.**

**As Wilma washed and the women talked, little Tony played under the table and the smell of roast lamb permeated the room. Ann found herself taking a quick liking to the young colonel. "You know, I was being a bit forward before, but I am still curious."**

**"About what?" Wilma said, suds halfway up to her elbows. She had pulled the shiny blue material up her arms so as not to get it wet, although Ann figured water wouldn’t harm it any.**

**"About the organization you belong to."**

**"Oh, what I am a colonel in?" Wilma answered with a cheerful laugh.**

**Ann felt her cheeks grow warm, but she nodded.**

**"Believe me, there were some others who wondered how I got that, too." Although still upbeat, Wilma’s voice took on a more serious note. "There were voices that said I got my post because of my father’s previous service."**

**Anne wondered that such issues would still pervade even that far into the future and said so.**

**Wilma sighed. "My father was a high ranking Directorate officer. I had no other goal than to serve in the Directorate just as he did. Oh, the Directorate is Earth’s governing body in the 25th century," she added quickly when Ann looked confused. "There are several departments under a central leadership. I was the head of the Defense Directorate until a year ago. Now I am second in command of a large exploration and scientific starship."**

**Anne was astonished. To travel the stars! It boggled her mind just as traveling time once had.**

**"Even Buck’s initial reaction was less than flattering," Wilma continued.**

**Ann smiled. Having just had a slight introduction to the captain’s demeanor, Ann could well understand how he might have reacted to Wilma. Somehow, she felt that there was a great deal of steel hardness underneath the colonel’s gracious exterior. There was no doubt in her mind as to Wilma Deering’s ability to command. Ann wondered just how much these two had to adjust to get so close.**

**"Mind you, he changed his perceptions quickly, but…."**

**Ann waited for more and wasn’t disappointed.**

**"I have to admit, it was Buck who helped Earth through one of her most trying times, though, and it was mainly because of his . . . remoteness from our century. He didn’t have any preconceived notions about the politics of the time." She paused abruptly. All Ann heard for several minutes was the clink of dishes as Wilma washed and then dipped them in the rinse water and placed them in the drying rack. Without comment, Ann reached for and dried the clean dishes and put them away in the cupboards as best as she could. "But I had distanced myself from him," Wilma continued. "It took a great deal of time before he could see me as more than a superior officer or just a friend."**

**"But you had already fallen for him by then." Ann felt she was stating the obvious.**

**"In my clumsy way, I had fallen for him from the moment I laid eyes on him. I thought him boorish, a chauvinistic little boy in a man’s body, but still he excited me." She laughed softly, ironically. "It was just some kind of charismatic fascination at first. Maybe it also had to do with the fact that he was lost—a piece of flotsam that had been washed up on a distant and strange shore. I finally figured out that his strange humor wasn’t just a piece of his half millennial distant culture, but his way of coping with what he couldn’t understand. At first he was just trying to deal with his loss and the strangeness of his new world."**

**"And that awoke the ‘mother instinct’ in you, right?" Wilma looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. Ann continued. "You sound a bit like me when I first began working at the Tunnel and met Doug. He didn’t even know I existed, insofar as anything other than work was concerned." Here she paused. "At least until he and Tony had been stranded in time for several years. Both of them went through some serious psychological adjustments and I felt myself even more drawn to Doug and Tony. Tony, more like a brother/sister sort of relationship. That still continues. But with Doug—I felt even more drawn to him. And I couldn’t even touch or hold him."**

**"That had to be so hard," Wilma said thoughtfully, handing Ann the last dish. She washed the utensils and laid them out in the rack to air dry without saying anything else.**

**"It was and then Jerry proposed an idea to me as to how I could join Doug. He saw what General Kirk, Ray and everyone else missed. In hindsight, I think he was somewhat in love with me," she said reflectively.**

**"He was…."**

**Ann looked at Wilma. "Writings?"**

**"Yes. He kept a journal and some other letters and writings. That’s how Buck figured out where you were." Wilma paused and then added hastily. "It was cryptic and very vague as though he didn’t want anyone to know, which of course you had expressed to him, but yet…. I just don’t know how Buck figured it out, personally."**

**Ann nodded. "Poor Jerry. We made him promise, but then he must have had some vague notion of regret that we would be forever lost to anyone who might come later—find the Tunnel—I guess as your people did."**

**=======================**

**"You did say you were a city boy, didn’t you?" Tony said with a slight chuckle as Buck tried to milk the second of two milk cows that Doug and Tony owned. As though punctuating the time traveler’s ineptitude, the cow turned her head and moo’ed disapprovingly.**

**Buck sighed and leaned his head against the cow’s warm side. "You know, several companies were or are making canned milk in the 30’s."**

**"I know, and we have several cases in the house when we can’t get anything fresh, but this is still tastier. You’ll see."**

**"Never was a milk drinker," Buck commented as Tony knelt beside him and showed him how to do it.**

**Buck took over and this time the milk flowed much better into the bucket below the udder. The sound of the streams of milk brought several cats out of hiding. They stood like a row of soldiers waiting. Tony laughed and directed Buck to aim for them.**

**"But…."**

**"We get enough for ourselves most of the time, and it’s kind of a fun show," Tony assured the space pilot. He wondered vaguely as Buck practiced his aim, just what it would be like to fly freely in space. Without thought, he asked.**

**"In Ranger or in the 25th century?" Buck asked, smiling at the cats licking milk from their faces and other parts of their bodies.**

**"Whichever."**

**"In Ranger, I was encased, in contact, even though I was alone. While I understood the dangers, I still felt remote from where I was . . . if that makes sense."**

**"I think so."**

**"The first time I flew on a starfighter, I was a bit green . . . literally. We went through a star gate—a sort of shortcut between specific points in space. It’s been explained to me, but I guess it’s like the fact that your Tunnel is a shortcut between points in time."**

**"Like folds in a cloth, there are points that are the shortest distance on the ‘fold’ so to speak, than they would be otherwise. In time and in space, that is."**

**"I suppose. I just learned to use them. After the first time through one, I got used to them."**

**After a moment’s silence, as Buck slowly filled up the bucket, Tony grabbed another bucket and began milking the second cow. When he got his rhythm, he prompted the spaceman again. "But in the 25th century? Once you got used to it? What was it like?"**

**"Like a bird, I guess. Like a racecar driver; only in the most exhilarating and advanced car possible. Freer, wilder, more beautiful and more powerful."**

**"I wish I could have felt that way with the Tunnel the first time I went through."**

**"You were mainly trying to protect something."**

**"Yes. They were going to shut her down, as you know."**

**"I guess I had to fly in the 25th century to protect something, too."**

**Tony was puzzled. "What?"**

**"My sanity, I suppose." Then Buck shook his head. "More like my right to even be here . . . there—to exist."**

**"To have survived?"**

**Buck didn’t answer, only concentrated on his milking.**

**"Uh, Buck," Tony ventured seeing the somewhat melancholy look on the newcomer’s face. Tony found himself drawn to this star pilot; almost from the time he had met him. Despite Doug’s lingering doubts, Tony felt deep inside that this man was exactly who he said he was. He understood Buck’s feelings.**

**"Yeah?" Buck stopped milking and looked up.**

**"I was planning on going hunting after this storm passes, but Doug doesn’t want to go too far from home with Ann this close to delivery." He paused. "And I don’t like going out alone."**

**"You low on meat or something?" Buck asked, looking at the cattle gathered at the door waiting for their feed.**

**"No, but we kind of started a tradition where we have venison for our Christmas Eve dinner," Tony explained. "And I’ll have to admit that it’s better than any turkey or ham dinner I’ve ever had for Christmas." He waited for Buck’s response. Some people had something against hunting, but he and Doug had had to do some during their sojourn in time and Tony had taken a liking to wild game.**

**"Sure, I don’t mind being your hunting partner," Buck said with a slight smile. "Been a long time since I’ve been hunting, though."**

**Tony shrugged and grinned. _A long time indeed_. "I would guess that anyone who learned how to fly a starfighter in that short a time can remember how to hunt."**

**"Okay, when we’re through, we’ll check out the armaments," Buck replied, his smile widening to a grin. "Haven’t been hunting since I went with my dad after I graduated from the academy." He turned back to the cow and continued his rhythmic cadence. The smile continued and the cats got a second helping.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Buck pulled the reins and brought the gelding to a stop. He surveyed the snow-covered vista around him. Behind him stood the vague outline of the top of Doug and Ann’s house, smoke rising from the large chimney. Before him rose mountains liked those he had learned to love during his academy days. Right now, they were wreathed with snow-filled clouds, making the scene almost ethereal. He sucked in a breath of cold air and let it out again slowly, watching the vapor of his breath just as he had when he was a boy in Chicago. The sorrel beneath him pranced and then pawed the hard packed snow. There was a tree near the fence line and Buck guided the horse toward it, all the while feeling the wind gust under the hood of the parka. It was cold, but it didn’t bother him. It was the closest thing to his childhood home he had experienced since arriving in the twentieth-fifth century. Okay, so it was Montana, circa 1935, and not upper state Illinois in the mid-sixties, but that was okay; it was closer to home than 2494. Now all he had to do was figure out why this sudden urge to be alone.**

**It was overwhelming, that need to leave the warmth of Doug and Tony’s Christmas celebration, and it scared him a little. Why so sad at a time like this? That house had been filled with laughter and warmth and friendship. That these people would treat them so warmly after knowing he and Wilma for less than a week was incredible. And this morning? You could almost cut the happiness with a knife. Doug and Ann’s toddler opening his presents, his eyes glowing with the wonder of it all; the ginger cat playing and hiding among the ribbons and wrappings, along with several weaned barn kittens brought in during the first storm after his and Wilma’s arrival. There was also the smell of a venison roast cooking in the kitchen. There had even been presents for he and Wilma, even as Buck had requested certain things for Dr. Huer to send to the little family. How Tony and Doug had done it on their end was beyond him.**

**Then it struck him. Was it because this celebration reminded Buck of the times when he had celebrated Christmas with his family? That was probably one reason. But it disturbed him to think that after all this time; he was still subject to this kind of moodiness periodically. He was here, or rather he was there. He shook his head before he confused himself. Regardless, the twenty-fifth century was his home now.**

**Buck dismounted and threw the reins over a low hanging limb. He could no longer see the house he had recently left, only an occasional puff of fireplace smoke. He gazed at the tree. It was a tenacious oak. It had to be to get this size in a place like western Montana. Buck walked around the oak until the large tree was protecting him from the brunt of the fierce wind. There was a pocket of almost bare ground, the grass brown and bent, frozen to the ground. He stood there and watched the snow thicken and the wind ease up. The snow drifted down more sedately, falling straight down instead of across as it had most of the previous two days. Buck remembered a NASA friend of his from Wyoming who claimed that the snowflake that left its cloud in Rock Springs would not land until it reached Rawlings. Having driven that distance along I-80, he could totally understand the joke.**

**Then the clouds began to disperse even as the snow tapered off. A burst of golden sunshine from directly overhead settled on a distant mountain and made it look almost heavenly.**

**"You know, for a fly boy, that’s a pretty dangerous and stupid thing, coming out here in a snowstorm," a voice said from the other side of the tree. "Even if it is a waning snowstorm." Buck’s gelding nickered and another horse answered.**

**Buck peered around the tree and saw Tony dismounting. The ex-time traveler joined him, leaning against the trunk next to him.**

**"There’s something about this tree," Tony said with a soft smile.**

**"You come here, too?"**

**"Yeah," he answered. "Kind of nice leaning against the hard bark looking at the mountains." Tony paused. "Both let you know that there are things bigger than any of us."**

**Buck nodded. There were lots of things bigger than he was. "It’s beautiful," he said, nodding to indicate the mountains.**

**"Surely they are still around in the twenty-fifth century, aren’t they?"**

**"Yeah, but the weather is screwed up and some of the mountains were carved up by the nukes," Buck told him. "Most of North America kind of got blasted."**

**"Wilma called what you were having a twentieth century moment," Tony said with a chuckle. Then he sobered quickly. "Sorry, didn’t mean to make light, but I think, in some small way, I understand."**

**Buck looked into the other man’s dark eyes and knew that he did indeed understand. "A very wise friend in the twenty-fifth century said that I would always feel some pain over my loss. I guess he was right. I just keep hoping that it will eventually go away, that I can finally make my peace with the past and not wish for it anymore."**

**"Buck, the only way you could stop feeling those painful moments is if you were able to purge all memories of your past," Tony told him. "Do you really want to do that?"**

**"No, of course not," Buck replied quickly, remembering the time when he had amnesia. Both men were silent as the sun slowly slipped from overhead and began its journey toward the distant mountains. Finally, he gazed at Tony. "You would like to go home, too, wouldn’t you?" They had talked about their respective pasts when they had gone hunting a few days ago. Buck had enjoyed the time in the wilderness and had especially enjoyed talking with someone who truly understood where he came from. Maybe that had contributed to his melancholy. Suddenly, he wondered if it had been such a wise idea to come back here to this place and time. But just as quickly, Buck realized that he was glad they had come. Somehow, he thought Tony was, too. He wasn't so sure about Doug, though. Phillips had been cordial enough, even accepting, but still slightly aloof, though. Buck suspected that it might have to do with the fact that he had scared the bejeebers out of Ann.**

**"Yes, I would, but I would then be working for what eventually ended the world," Tony replied, his voice sad and bitter. "It amazes me that something that I put my heart and soul into would have been the cause of the holocaust that blasted your . . . well, and my world, too, into oblivion." He sighed. "The Tunnel should have continued to be used for knowledge, even if it couldn’t be used for peace."**

**Buck shook his head. "I was part of an undercover operation to expose zealots determined to destroy the other side before they destroyed us. And all the while, another arm of the same group was working inside your tunnel."**

**"I know," Tony murmured. "I often wished that I could somehow go back and stop the madness before it got out of hand." He laughed bitterly. "But I found out time and again how futile that was. Why, there were times when it was our very intervention that made the moment in history." He kicked at a frozen tuft of grass. "I even tried to save my own father, but instead I watched him die."**

**"Jerry mentioned that, but didn’t elaborate. If it’s too painful, you don’t have to say anymore."**

**"No, it’s okay. I have come to terms with it. Doug and I landed near Pearl Harbor on the eve of the attack. I was just a boy then in 1941, seven-years-old. It was kind of creepy seeing myself so young. Until that time, though, I never really knew what happened to my father. And as an adult I couldn’t save him, but at least he knew before he died that I had grown up and that I never forgot him. Just after he died, after Doug had dragged me out of the communications shack, a bomb obliterated it. Dad’s body was never found. The Tunnel transferred us before a bomb got us, too. I grew up never knowing what had happened to him, only knowing that he had died. At least until that day when I went back to Hawaii as an adult."**

**"I’m sorry, Tony," Buck said. "I had no idea."**

**"Yeah, Christmas that year was really tough. I was an orphan. I think I mentioned that before. My mom was already dead." He paused before continuing. "But you know, as painful as it was seeing him and not being able to do anything, I really do feel blessed to have been able to have that moment before he died and for him to know…."**

**Buck said nothing, only gazing raptly as the clouds finally blew off and left a blue vaulted ceiling overhead. The rays of the sun sparkled on the snow, making it look like diamonds.**

**"It’s Christmas, isn’t it?"**

**"Huh?" Buck was puzzled at so obvious a question.**

**"It’s the fact that it’s Christmas that has you depressed, isn’t it?" Tony elaborated, suddenly insightful.**

**Again, Buck didn’t say anything, but felt that the other man had verified what he had been thinking before. Buck had watched little Tony opening his presents with joyful abandon earlier that morning and he remembered doing the same thing with his family and then doing the same thing with his nephews and nieces when he was grown. There was really no one to do that for now.**

**"Do they celebrate Christmas in the twenty-fifth century?" Tony asked, curious.**

**"Yeah, well, kind of, but it’s almost a hybrid of several celebrations, and also a celebration of survival from the dark days after the Great Holocaust," Buck said. "There is remembrance of the birth of Christ since a few Bibles survived the destruction. Remembered is the fact that it was a miraculous birth, but it has been turned into a symbol of the post Holocaust. A rebirth celebration, I guess you could call it. The old carols have for the most part been forgotten, although I catch snatches of old melodies in the newer songs. There are gifts and parties, but it’s not the same. You know, no Santa for the kids, no caroling in the snow, no eggnog, no Christmas trees." Buck shook his head and laughed sadly. "No big monster dinners with Mom cooking way too much for those gathered. And no watching bowl games afterward while Marilyn gripes about me and Frank being so lazy."**

**Tony laid his hand on his fellow time traveler’s arm. "Yeah, I know." They watched the sun traveling toward the distant mountains for a while. "It’s been comfortable here, really. When Doug and I arrived and realized where and when we were, we decided if the Tunnel wasn’t going to be able to bring us back to our time anytime soon, we might as well anchor in a place that was at least somewhat familiar to us." He paused a moment. "We’ve done well here. With our technological expertise, we’ve lived very comfortably."**

**"But…." Buck coaxed.**

**"But it hurts knowing that only a few hundred miles away, my dad is cradling me in his arms."**

**Buck pulled in another deep breath. "That stinks." He was thinking that his folks were opening their presents in their parent’s homes today. He was only fifty plus years distant from his family rather than a half a millennium and a horrible war removed.**

**"Yeah, it does, but I have to remember just how lucky I am," Tony mused. "I am alive, I am free, and I have seen things that so many people could only dream about."**

**"Me, too. And I have a wonderful woman to share my new century with."**

**"I’ll say," Tony said with a smile. "How did an old man like you manage to snag a fine looking woman like Wilma?"**

**"Hey, hands off!" Buck said in mock protest. "And who are you calling old?" Buck couldn’t help it; he burst out laughing. "It took a helluva long time to figure out she was the one for me." Then he studied Tony again. There was sadness there.**

**As though reading his mind, Tony began. "I have been in love. There was one time when I was ready to settle down in a century far removed from here and now, and stay with a woman not only beautiful to look at, but beautiful inside, too."**

**"On one of your travels?"**

**"Yes, Marco Polo’s day. The Khan’s daughter. But it was not meant to be. We both realized that," Tony said. He looked at Buck. "And when Doug and I came here, I thought about marrying someone local, but I just couldn’t make myself begin the process."**

**"Couldn’t set down the roots . . . just in case?" Buck queried, thinking he knew what was going on in Tony’s mind and soul. Eight or so hours of trudging in the snow after a three pointer and sitting in wait helped a person learn a great deal about his hunting partner--even when you weren't talking.**

**"Yeah, you’re right. Somehow, even though I love this place, there is always that thought in the deep recesses of my mind, that this is only another temporary place in time and space," Tony said, feeling the renewed pain that he usually only felt in the evenings or when he was trying to sleep at night. Those times when he wasn’t working on projects that kept his hands and mind busy.**

**"I know the feeling," Buck said. "It took a great deal for me to let go of my past enough to even begin to set down those roots. Thankfully, Wilma has been very patient."**

**"You know, Buck," Tony began. "You could reintroduce some of the Christmas customs that you grew up with. If they were worthwhile in your youth, they certainly are good enough for the twenty-fifth century. Even if it’s just in the family you will be starting with Wilma." He could not believe that as different as he and Buck were, in personality and in backgrounds, there was still so much in common. Their commonality was displacement.**

**"Whoa, partner, getting a bit rushed there?"**

**"Well, maybe, but Wilma said you have already contributed to some understanding of the past in the twenty-fifth century, a past that was lost in the Great Holocaust, so why don’t you add to their celebration and make it more special to them and to you," Tony ventured, feeling a strange sense of excitement. "Record all of the customs you can remember. The Christmas trees, the songs, all the stuff that made us happy we were growing up when and where we were."**

**"Yeah, that’s a good idea, Tony." Buck picked up on Tony’s excitement and then he began to think. He wondered about the Tunnel and the vast amounts of information, the nuances of its operation and how much more the Directorate people had to learn. "And why don’t you come to the twenty-fifth century and help the Directorate run the Tunnel. Who would know better how to operate something like that than the person who helped build it? If I understood correctly, I think they could transfer you back to the complex just as easily now as they can me and Wilma."**

**Tony gaped at him. "You’ve got to be kidding, Buck. For five years they tried to get us back by continually transferring us, then for another four they tried to come up with the solution without transferring us more than a few times. And then the military took over and we told them where to stick it. Thank goodness they couldn’t figure how to get us back either. Jerry secretly shipped us to another place—here—and then obliterated the computer tapes that recorded our jump. After that the fix was just too tenuous, non-existent, in fact for them to figure it out on their own. Ann jumped ship about the time we decided to stay here. So Doug and Ann and I have been here for almost three years and for you, the Tunnel has been sitting dormant for over five hundred years. I don’t see how it could be done. It amazes me that you even found us to begin with, despite Jerry’s notes, vague though they were."**

**"Oh, ye of little faith," Buck said with a smile. He saw the hopeful gleam in Tony’s eyes. "Didn’t Doug say that the Tunnel accidentally brought people out of their own times and returned them? I dare say that you, and Doug and Ann and little Tony, if they wanted to, could be sent to the twenty-fifth century in the same way."**

**"Are you serious?"**

**"Deadly serious," Buck said. "You are an extremely talented scientist and your talents shouldn’t be stuck out in the country building solar grids and wind generators and secret things that you can never market." He paused. "Not if you really want to go back to the miracle that you helped build."**

**"I’ll have to think about it, Buck." They watched the sun glowing just above the mountains for a few more minutes. Tony felt the chill creeping through his body and slapped his gloved hands against his thighs. "It’s getting cold out here. Why don’t we go back?"**

**Buck nodded. He felt much better than he had only a scant few hours ago. He was grateful for Tony’s understanding and his suggestions. "You think they would be able to stand all the crazy things we did at Christmas?"**

**"I don’t know," Tony said with a chuckle. "But it would sure be fun trying, wouldn’t it?"**

**"I wonder how in the world they would understand the time I dared my brother, Frank, to stick his tongue on the light pole on the corner of State Street?" Buck asked.**

**Tony laughed even as he gathered the horses’ reins. "That sounds like the time I did the same thing to my younger cousin the year after Dad died. I promised him my Batman decoder ring if he did. Did you get in as much trouble as I did?"**

**"I ate Christmas dinner standing up that year," Buck said matter-of-factly as he mounted. They both laughed as they rode back toward the cheery looking ranch house, its Christmas tree glowing in the window. "By the way, thanks."**

**"What for?"**

**"For helping me get over my twentieth century moment," Buck said with a smile.**

**"Merry Christmas, Buck."**

**"Merry Christmas, Tony." Buck smiled. "Life really is good, isn’t it?"**

**"Yes, it is."**

**The sun shone over their shoulders, bathing the ranch house in shades of gold. A slice of heaven, Buck thought, but then heaven wasn’t where you were; it was who you were with.**


	10. Chapter 10

**The dinner had been glorious. Even the cats lay curled up next to each other in front of the fireplace, glutted with tidbits of the turkey and venison that each person had snuck to them. Tony understood how they felt. Wilma was busy in the kitchen wrapping and then storing the leftovers in the icebox. Buck was with her, helping her deal with the primitive conveniences that she obviously wasn't familiar with. With a smile, Tony figured there were other things going on, too.**

**What wouldn't fit in the fridge, he knew, would go in the ice chest in the basement. Ann was snuggled next to Doug on the couch watching the fire and looking very grateful that someone else was cleaning up after the huge dinner. Tony figured he should be in there helping their guests, but guessed that what they couldn't figure out, they would ask about later. He thought about the conversation he and Buck had enjoyed earlier in the day. Did he really want to go back, or rather go forward and live in the century that Wilma talked so glowingly about and that Buck now called home? Did he want to go back to the Tunnel? As much as he enjoyed this place and as much as he had become used to it, there was something that had continued to draw him to the complex; to what had been. Just as there was something that kept telling him that this was not home, even though it had been a very comfortable place to live these past years.**

**Like Buck, home didn't exist anymore. It was some abstract place and time that just wasn't there except in his heart and mind. So what was tying him here? Only Doug, Ann and little Tony. But if Buck was right and the Tunnel was operational as it had been intended to be, then what would stop him from going back with Buck and Wilma and then coming back to visit occasionally? Guilt and excitement warred, and he sighed, sitting deeper in his chair as he watched the flames caressing and then consuming a small log.**

**Several days and another storm later, the sun rose in a vaulted blue sky that had even Wilma entranced. As they walked along the snow-packed path that led to the corral, she watched her breath curl in smoky plumes upward. She felt and heard the soft crunch of the snow along the edges of the path as she walked. Purposefully, she took steps at the edges just so she could experience the snow. It was dry enough that most of the new snow sifted around her feet, but some of it packed down to add to that which had covered the path in a surface that reminded her of plasta-crete. It was bitingly cold, but Wilma didn’t mind. She had never experienced snow on Earth before, only on other planets. While it had been intriguing on worlds such as Trinis and Cobrin, this was infinitely more satisfying. Why, she wondered? Because it was her planet. Earth. That Earth could have possessed such wonders amazed her. "I can see why you chose this place," she said to Ann, who had bundled up little Tony and brought him out for some fresh air. Only the toddler's eyes were showing and he waved his arms in his displeasure. Ann was almost as well bundled, appearing quite round about the middle. It amazed her that in only a few weeks this woman would be having a baby without the benefit of medical care other than a country doctor in the nearby small town. Little Tony was born with only the help of her husband and the old doctor. This time, with the weather as unsettled as it was, even the doctor was a tenuous bet. Ann said nothing. Despite the lovely surroundings, though, Wilma was well aware of the isolation of this area. It wasn’t just the physical isolation of being located on a five hundred acre ranch in a sparsely populated area of the state of Montana. Ann McGregor Phillips had been a scientist in her own right, having worked with the Tunnel engineers almost from the time she received her degree until she made Jerry send her through the Tunnel to join Doug and Tony. "Ann?"**

**"Yes?"**

**"How have you managed all of this?" Wilma asked bluntly, then she felt the heat in her face. What an impertinent question, she thought. "I'm sorry, that was somewhat forward of me."**

**Ann laughed softly. It was muffled behind the scarf. Keeping an eye on the toddler who only wanted to pull off some of his clothes so he could play in the ‘pretty white stuff’, she pulled down the scarf so she could speak more clearly. "Do you mean in this primitive place and time, or do you mean giving up my work to be a mom?" She paused and gazed meaningfully at Wilma. "Believe me, if there hadn't been more at stake, I would have gone crazy by now." She shrugged. "As it is, I do miss my work I did at the Tunnel. I was a scientist, although a sometimes very frazzled one. Most of the time I think I was at least a good one. However, this is worth it," she added, laying her hand on the toddler's head. "As to the primitive, I have to admit, I wish for a television at times, or a fast food burger or milk shake, although they were hard to come by in the complex, too. I have to admit, it was even harder at the beginning."**

**"I can imagine," Wilma replied. "I can see that I have been spoiled with all the conveniences I have grown up with." She didn't really know what else to say. She imagined having to live without the amenities that she had become accustomed to.**

**"I hear that Tony is seriously considering going back with you and helping with the operations." Ann's voice sounded a bit wistful and Wilma wondered if Ann wished she could go back to the Tunnel, too.**

**"Yes, he is. I think he'll go as soon as they have established the means to transfer him."**

**"A couple of years ago, we wouldn't have even dreamed of such a thing. Or have wanted it."**

**Wilma nodded. "I know it has to be hard. When Buck told me what had happened in that tunnel, I wasn't even sure I wanted to stay there."**

**Ann’s voice was higher in sudden anger. "Can you imagine what it was like for those of us who had been with it from the beginning? Those of us who knew what the Tunnel could do and what potential for scientific knowledge it had. And to see it used the way it was...."**

**Again, Wilma wasn't sure what to say. She knew how bitter she had been growing up, seeing the vast burned wastelands, having to deal with remnants of animalistic mutants, hating those who had caused it, while not knowing who those people were. She had simply hated Buck’s generation. When Buck arrived, part of her animosity toward him was due to that disgust and bitterness she held within her toward those who almost destroyed her world. "I'm sorry, Ann. I really am. I understand how even the best, most benign of discoveries can be twisted and turned for destructive or selfish uses by those who don’t understand them—or don’t care."**

**"Don't be sorry, Wilma. It certainly wasn't your fault. You have had to deal with the aftermath of what we created," Ann said bitterly. She picked up little Tony and held him close.**

**"Ann, I realized as soon as I saw how successful Buck's journey had been just what a fantastic marvel you and Doug and Tony created. I watched the living past as Buck walked through it. And going through time myself...." She paused, remembering the sensations of light and darkness, weightlessness and pressure all coming together at once. It had been incredible and totally indescribable.**

**"The Tunnel is incredible, isn't it?" Ann asked as she picked up the toddler and turned back to walk toward the house. "If you don’t mind, it’s a bit too cold to go all the way to the corral." Little Tony fussed in her arms, obviously wanting to see the horses, but Ann just held him the tighter.**

**"No, it’s no problem. But, yes, but even if you didn't go anywhere, only simply watched what was happening, I . . . I would love to see the history that was lost to us. To be able to see some of the places that Jerry described that Tony and Doug had seen in their travels." She looked meaningfully into Ann’s face as they walked back toward the house. "Almost all of that was lost, or so jumbled as to be meaningless to our historians. Buck almost laughed at what Dr. Junius surmised from the old artifacts he had collected, but I think he realized just what we lost as well as what he had lost. There were times in-between missions when Buck spent hours in Dr. Junius’ collection, explaining and helping him catalogue recent discoveries."**

**Ann nodded and remained thoughtful as they walked along the well trodden path. Finally she asked, "You are military, so I have to ask this." When Wilma nodded, she continued. "Is a part of that desire anything to do with your position?" she asked bluntly.**

**Wilma felt a bit of irritation but it fled almost immediately. She knew where Ann was coming from. "No, I have seen enough war, destruction and devastation to realize that I am only in the Directorate to preserve peace." She saw Ann studying her and continued. "I definitely mean peace for everyone, Ann, not peace because one bully is bigger than the other one." She turned and gazed at the almost-too-bright-to-stand snow pack. "It is a much larger field of engagement out there, but I don't see the Tunnel as being anything but a means to restore our lost past. To know who we are and where we came from."**

**"That was all we wanted," Ann said. "Scientific study and discovery, that’s all…."**

**They entered the homey warmth of the house and Wilma took off her coat, hanging it up on the coat rack. She turned and saw Ann still standing inside the doorway, little Tony whining in her arms. Ann’s eyes seemed unfocused and then pain filled and Wilma guessed immediately what was going on. "Let me take Tony, Ann. You sit down there," she said, pointing to a wooden, straight-backed chair. Quickly, Wilma took the toddler’s outer clothing off and set him on the floor. "Go find Bitsy," she told him, turning quickly to Ann. "Let me help you off with those." She moved to help Ann, who didn’t say anything and let Wilma take off her coat. "Where’s Doug?"**

**"Out with Tony, feeding the cattle," Ann murmured. Her face was white and she sucked in her breath tremulously.**

**"Do they have the communicators?"**

**Ann nodded. "My water broke."**

**This time Wilma nodded. She had noticed the wet pants and had known that the water gathering on the dark floor hadn’t been from snow tracked in on their boots. "Where’s the communicator?" she asked.**

**"My coat pocket," Ann said. "The baby’s coming faster than Tony did . . . I think."**

**Wilma didn’t say anything, only grabbing in the coat pockets until she found the little communicator that Doug had put together. "Doug!" she called, knowing that this communicator was directly linked to both Doug’s and Tony’s. "Doug! Tony! Come in, please."**

**"Doug, here. Wilma?"**

**"Yes, get back here now! Ann’s having the baby."**

**"Where are you?"**

**"Just inside the house. The kitchen. I’m going to get Ann comfortable by the fire and put little Tony in his play room where he’ll be safe."**

**"I’ll be right there and Tony can go get the doc," Doug said tersely.**

**Little Tony gazed curiously at the two women, his hazel eyes large as fear began to fill their depths. "It’s okay, honey," Ann told him. She took him by the hand. "Come with me by the fireplace and you can play with the kitties for a while." She took a deep breath. "It just startled me and the pain has eased considerably. There is nothing imminent, Wilma. But I think I need to get comfortable in the bedroom and get ready for this," she said, slowly and awkwardly rising from the chair.**

**"Will you be all right while I take little Tony to the play room with the kittens?"**

**"Yes, and when Doug comes, could you take care of him?"**

**"Of course and if you need my help, Buck can take care of little Tony," Wilma said quickly, realizing that she didn’t know much about this kind of thing, but offering anyway. Her Directorate training had prepared for all contingencies related to survival and battle, however….**

**Ann nodded and turned to her son. "You go play in your room with your new toys, sweetie. Aunt Wilma will find the kitties for you. If you get tired you can take a little nap with them. Mommy’s going to rest and maybe soon you’ll have a new baby brother or sister."**

**The toddler’s eyes got really large, but he nodded and gazed up at Wilma. She took him in her arms and carried him into the combination playroom and nursery. Come to think of it, she thought, she didn’t have a great deal of experience with little children, either. She was the baby sister in her family. However, little Tony was a very sweet child, and had taken to them quite easily. As she walked into the child’s room, the door burst open and Doug called out. Ann answered from their bedroom. Buck called for her and Wilma answered him.**

**"Mommy," little Tony said. "Daddy."**

**"Your Daddy is taking care of your mommy," Wilma assured him. "Me and Buck are here to take care of you." He held her tight and wouldn't let her put him down.**

**Buck came into the room. "Tony’s gone into town to get the doctor."**

**"I know. You have any experience with childbirth?" she asked.**

**"No, not really. I mean, I was in the Air Force, learned first aid, but not anything like that," he responded quickly. "You?"**

**She shook her head. "But it only takes one of us to care for this baby."**

**"Well, to be honest with you, Tony had mentioned getting more firewood for the stove in the basement before another storm comes through or while this cold snap continues, so unless…."**

**Wilma was about to give a quick retort about him skipping out, a term he had taught her, but realized that if the temperatures continue to stay below freezing as they had for the past several days, they would need firewood to keep Ann and the new baby comfortable. She simply nodded and led the little boy over to the changing table. When she had taken him, Wilma had noticed that Little Tony needed a change. She knew she was awkward at the chore, but the toddler cooperated with her by lying still, listening raptly at the little songs she sang from her childhood. When that was accomplished, Wilma sat down in the rocking chair with the little boy. She sang until he finally fell asleep in her arms, then Wilma gently carried him to his crib and laid him down, covering him up with his quilt. Quietly she crept out of the room, noticing the kittens staring at her from the doorway. She left the door cracked open and then walked into the living room where the fire crackled softly. It needed more wood and she added a couple of log as she listened for sounds from the master bedroom. Occasionally Ann groaned from the pain, but otherwise there was nothing else to hear but Doug’s words of comfort and support. She listened for sounds of the truck, but was unable to hear anything above the sound of the wind blowing. No storms, but she knew it had to be getting quite cold.**

**The late morning slid into afternoon and still Tony hadn’t returned with the doctor. Buck had finished cutting the wood and stoking the wood stove in the basement. Little Tony had been fed and was playing with the kittens. Wilma and then Doug had tried to raise Tony on the communicator, but there had been no response. Wilma knew that Doug was worried, but simply couldn’t do anything.**

**Buck paced, even as Ann’s labor became harder and harder as evidenced by her cries coming from the bedroom. "Wilma, I can’t believe that Tony would have turned off his communicator or be ignoring it after all this time."**

**"I agree, but I don’t know how to drive one of their trucks." She wondered if the Tunnel could locate Tony, but knew they hadn’t sent him one of the ‘placer fixes’ so figured they wouldn’t be able to.**

**"I do, but Tony took the vehicle that is best suited to the snow and ice that’s out there. I think it would be better on horseback. I’m going to go out and follow the road. See what I can find."**

**"But is that safe?"**

**Buck snorted. "Was Sinaloa safe? Something has to be done. If Tony ran off the road or something like that, he needs help. Even dressed as warmly as he was, it’s blasted cold out there and looks like it’s going to get a whole lot colder when the sun sets."**

**"As much as I hate to agree with you, I believe that is the only thing left to do," Wilma replied, her eyes worried. "But don’t take any chances, please."**

**"I won’t." Buck paused and then looked surprised as a sudden thought came to him. "Doctor Huer?" he called out to no one in particular. "If you are listening, I believe we need some medical assistance here." He turned his attention back to Wilma. "Hold down the fort, Wilma. I’m going to look for Tony." He kissed her soundly, crushing her to his chest.**

**"Fly safe," Wilma said softly.**

**Buck gave her the thumb’s up as he threw on his heavy parka. Then as he pulled on his gloves, he went out the door.**

**Wilma shivered at the cold blast that hit her after the door closed behind him.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Buck quickly saddled and bridled the gelding he had ridden before. The horse turned his head and gazed at him with eyes that seemed to question his sanity. The wind whistled through cracks in the wooden boards of the barn, giving scant credence to the bright afternoon sunshine outside. "Yeah, we’re both nuts, but I’ll give you something extra when we find Tony and get back." The horse only shook his head and snorted.**

**Buck led the gelding outside the barn and then tightened the hood of his parka when the wind threatened to tear it off. With a deep breath, he mounted and rode down the wind-swept dirt driveway that led to the main road going into town. Drifts of snow had already reconfigured themselves from earlier in the day and the wind blew pellets of old snow into his face as they cantered along. He passed through the gate, one side almost covered in a drift and the other side scoured to the bare ground, and turned down the road toward Wolf Creek. The wind whipped into his face and a snort from the gelding told Buck that the horse was unhappy about it as much as he was. They continued onward at the same slow canter. It was fast enough to eat up the miles but slow enough to allow him to study the places along the road where a truck might have gone off into the ditch.**

**The sun continued to shine, but it gave scant heat. He figured he had gone a couple of miles when he saw a vehicle half-buried in a drift ahead of him. The horse had slowed to a trot by this time and Buck hadn’t argued with him. Now, however, he urged the gelding back into a canter and quickly reached the truck. He dismounted before the horse came to a complete stop and rushed to the stalled vehicle that was slightly tipped to one side. "Tony!" he called out, hoping to be heard over the wind. "Tony!" Buck jumped onto the running board and jerked on the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He wiped the icy pellets from the window and peered in. He breathed on the window and wiped away more ice.**

**Buck saw a figure inside but couldn’t see any movement. Then Tony raised his hand slightly. Buck jerked on the door again. It was most likely frozen shut. He could break the window out, but would prefer not to take the chance of hurting Tony further with broken glass. If he had more muscle to get the door open…. Buck turned back toward the horse and pulled off the rope that was tied to the back of the saddle. He tied one end to the door handle and the other he tied to the saddle horn. Then he mounted and urged the horse back. It was a well-trained cow pony and immediately began to step back. The rope became taught and the horse hesitated. Buck urged it back with a nudge of his heels in its shoulder and the gelding strained back two more steps. "Come on," he murmured and the horse pulled harder. More urging and then the door creaked, but still held. The gelding pulled harder and the metal groaned. The handle gave a great shriek and came loose from the door, sailing past the horse’s head from released tension.**

**The gelding snorted and pranced and Buck calmed him with a hand to his neck. It was inevitable; he would have to break the glass. Dismounting, Buck grabbed up the bent handle, untied the rope and returned to the truck. "Tony, I’m going to break the glass. Cover your head if you can." With the handle, he struck the bottom of the window and watched the shards of broken glass burst inward. Most of the pieces, thankfully, showered the driver’s side seat. Tony had slid to the other side either during or after the wreck and was lying against the passenger side door. Buck struggled through the open window, brushing the glass away before he sat down. "Tony, can you hear me?" he asked, anxiously. The time traveler hadn’t moved since that first slight movement of his hand.**

**"Mmmm, yeah," came a low murmur.**

**"You injured?" Buck asked.**

**"Too cold to tell," Tony replied slowly, finally opening his eyes. They seemed slightly unfocussed and Buck wondered if it was just the effects of cold or if Tony had been hurt when the truck had gone off the road.**

**"Let me check you over as best as I can, then I’ll have to try and get you out of here."**

**Tony nodded slightly. "Had problems steering. Right from the start. Engine began heating. Frozen, think…."**

**"Mmmm," Buck said non-committally as he continued looking the other man over. No bones seemed broken but he could have missed something through the heavy material of Tony’s coat.**

**Suddenly there was a soft popping sound, a breath of warm air and a small box lay on the seat between him and Tony. Buck looked at it in surprise and then it dawned on him. The Tunnel.**

**"Buck," came a slightly spectral voice. It was Dr. Huer.**

**"Yeah, Doc?"**

**"The watch inside contains the locater markers needed to bring Dr. Newman back to the Tunnel and to the medical attention he needs," Huer explained.**

**Buck opened the box and saw what appeared to be a gold watch, without hour or minute hands. The dial glowed slightly in a similitude of the Tunnel rings. He slipped it on the semi-conscious man’s wrist.**

**"Ann. What about Ann?" Tony murmured.**

**"A qualified physician has been sent to the ranch house to aid her in the delivery of her baby," Dr. Huer replied, the voice still strangely echoing.**

**Buck couldn’t help but wonder just how much the Tunnel people had been watching. No matter now. It was a good thing they were. "I’m going back on the horse, then. Take care of Tony," Buck said as the air around Tony seemed to glow slightly and then waver. Tony’s figure blurred and then it faded quickly. He was gone. The horse whinnied from just outside the truck and Buck crawled outside to see the glowing orange of the western mountains as the sun began to slide behind them. He would have to hurry if he was going to make it before it got dark.**

**Quickly mounting, Buck urged the horse back up the road he had just traversed. The gelding needed no further urging. It simply wanted to be back in its stall where there was some measure of warmth, as well as food and water. As long as the road didn’t appear icy or have drifts, Buck let the horse canter. Most of the time, though, he had to keep the animal to a trot. Still, the stars were appearing in the darkened sky by the time he reached the gate. It took all his strength to keep the horse from breaking out into a full gallop. This close, Buck certainly didn’t want to break his neck. Thankfully, by this time, the wind had actually died down a great deal.**

**As anxious as he was to know of Ann’s condition, Buck still made sure the gelding was comfortable in his stall. He had put a blanket on him so he wouldn’t chill after the saddle had been removed, and gave him a small amount of oats and some hay to munch on. Buck broke the ice on the top of the small trough and checked the other horses briefly before he headed out of the barn and toward the ranch house. Wilma was waiting at the door.**

**"I thought I heard the sound of a horse, but began to wonder when you didn’t come in," she said.**

**"Had to take care of the horse before I came in, Wilma, otherwise it would have gotten sick," he replied. "How’s Ann? Did the doctor from the Tunnel get here?"**

**She nodded. "About an hour ago."**

**"And?"**

**"She did a diagnostic and found one of the babies was breach and having some respiratory distress."**

**"One? There’s more than one?" Buck asked, incredulous.**

**"Yes. Twins. Dr. Marley is surgically removing both babies right now."  
**

**"A C-section? Well, I’ll be…." Then he had a thought. "But Ann…."**

**"Will be fine. Dr. Marley said she’d be all right." Then it was Wilma’s turn to have a sudden new thought. "What about Tony? Did you find him?"**

**"Yes, I did. The truck had run off the road, but he was still alive. The Tunnel retrieved him and he should be fine by now."**

**Wilma let out a sigh of relief. They both looked up as Doug called from the bedroom.**

**========================**

**Tony knew he wasn’t in the truck anymore, but he wasn’t sure where he was. He opened his eyes slowly and blinked at the array of rainbow lights that greeted him before he landed within the oval rings of the device he thought he would never see again. His legs wouldn’t support him and Tony collapsed onto the ramp that ran the length of the temporal device. He heard voices and then felt hands. "Buck?" he mouthed.**

**"No, I am Dr. Elias Huer. You are back in your tunnel and we have a doctor here to help you, Dr. Newman."**

**Dr. Newman, he wondered. Tunnel? He was truly here in the Tunnel. Then everything faded into conflicting light and dark, and warmth and cold. Finally there was nothing.**

**Later he woke in a dimly lit room, the sound of instruments clicking and chirping all around him. He was in a bed . . . in the med bay . . . of the Tunnel. He hadn’t imagined it. He was back . . . or forward, if what Buck had told him was true. Tony let his eyes rove around the room without turning his head, and then he turned his head, first to one side and then to the other. A slightly strange looking machine was next to him and he was hooked to it. He didn’t feel the discomfort of intravenous ‘attachment’ though and wondered what this machine did. He felt almost comfortably warm, despite only being covered with a thin blanket.**

**His mind cleared even more and Tony sat up, mindful of the lightweight band around his arm that appeared to attach the glowing tubes from the machine to his body. The blanket fell away from his chest and he realized that he was not dressed at all. A young woman came into the room, followed by an older man.**

**"Ah, Dr. Newman, you are awake and apparently feeling much better," the older man said jovially. He smiled pleasantly and Tony felt warmed by his presence. Not as much for the woman. He glanced down to make sure the blanket was strategically resting across his thighs and around his waist.**

**"Dr. Newman, you were hypothermic and you need to stay in the bed until you are completely back to normal," she said, not sternly, but with a no-nonsense tone that brooked no argument.**

**"But I feel fine," Tony protested, as the nurse gently pushed him back into a prone position.**

**She smiled and her demeanor seemed to soften somewhat. He returned the smile. "Be that as it may," she replied. "I need to at least check you over and make sure all your diagnostic readings agree with you." She turned to the machine and Tony studied the older man who had been standing quietly by the side of the bed.**

**"I am Dr. Elias Huer, head of the Directorate of Earth," he said.**

**Tony remembered that name as well as the voice, but couldn’t figure from where. Then it dawned on him. "You were the voice in the truck."**

**He smiled and nodded. "Yes, we couldn’t get a fix on you until Buck found you."**

**"But then you sent something that allowed you to pull me back," Tony finished, incredulous. "But how? Our scientists weren’t able to do that in all the years Doug and I were out there."**

**Huer only shook his head. "You will have to discuss that with Dr. Malcome. As I understand it though, it was a combination of some new technology, something from off planet that would more safely allow a fix on a living body and the fact that your previous tie to the Tunnel had been severed by . . . uh, time, so to speak."**

**"Oh," Tony replied, knowing that a good long talk with this Dr. Malcome would occur as soon as he was released from the infirmary. "I congratulate you."**

**"Dr. Newman…."**

**"Tony," he corrected quickly.**

**"Tony," Huer began again. "I am thoroughly amazed at the amount of scientific progress you were able to make with the materials and technology at hand 500 years ago. Frit simply studied what was already here, and then used our improved technology to build upon that. Things went rapidly from then on."**

**"And you only want the Tunnel for scientific research," Tony said bluntly. "No forays against enemies, nothing to change the past to suit your own present."**

**"Doctor, it seems to me that while you began this with the idea of research and study of the past, you and your partner tried to change the past, even if it was only to help those you had become acquainted with. Or to save lives."**

**"Touché, Dr. Huer," Tony said with a sigh. "We lost our objectivity. We were only fortunate that some kind of bigger-than-us-force seemed to be keeping temporal integrity intact." He ran his hand through his dark hair and smiled softly. "Most of the time we were only trying to stay alive. That was why it was decided that the experiments to bring us back would be conducted those last few years with a minimum of movement in time. We figured we had been lucky those first years and our luck might run out and we’d do something horribly drastic to the fabric of time."**

**"And yet, it seemed that you were a part of that fabric, Tony. From what we read in Dr. Ricker’s journal, plus what we could pull from your computers, you and Dr. Phillips were a part of history and meant to be there at the times and places you went to. Dr. Ricker found some kind of study in the early 1980’s that he called the Novikov self-consistency principle that said something pretty close to what you are saying."**

**Tony remembered vignettes of some of their adventures and nodded. "Certainly seemed that way, but then there was the Tunnel’s part in the horrible nuclear holocaust in 1987."**

**"Yes, again, our first inclination was to learn enough about the operation of this tunnel so that we could go back and prevent what had happened. I don’t think we would be able to do that after all we have learned."**

**"I’m not sure you would really want to," Tony began and then hastily continued. "If not Becker, then someone else would most likely have come along, if not then, probably later." He felt his mind was running in circles, but Dr. Huer’s eyes showed understanding.**

**"Yes, I thought of that, too," Huer admitted. "That is why I have decided that for now, this complex and this technology will remain secret and will only be used to relearn a past that was lost to us a half a millennium ago."**

**Tony nodded. "Wise decision, as far as I can tell." He gazed at the nurse. "Am I going to live?" he asked ironically.**

**She frowned at him and then laughed when he smiled his reassurance. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with humor. "Yes, Dr. Newman, you are going to live. And," she added, "You are going to be released from my clutches."**

**He laughed at her quick humor. "Perhaps I ought to be sick again."**

**She studied him carefully and then blushed. "Dr. Newman…."**

**"Tony, please." Then he realized something. "I don’t even know your name."**

**"Dr. Carbonne," she replied promptly.**

**"Your first name, Doctor, if I may. We are in a pretty closed society here in the Tunnel complex."**

**"Aiyanna," she said after slight hesitation. "And do you come on to all women like this? Is this a twentieth century thing? I remember Colonel Deering saying something of the like about Captain Rogers."**

**Tony couldn’t help it, he laughed softly. "Maybe it is. But I have learned over the course of my travels that you can’t let things wait for the next day or even for the next moment." His smile faded at the thought of another woman of dark hair, complexion and dark eyes. Then he pushed that one away and studied the woman in front of him. "I hope that philosophy doesn’t offend you."**

**"No, it doesn’t and I can understand why you feel that way. I am familiar with the records here, since I am not only a medical doctor, but a bio-physicist."**

**Tony was astonished but tried not to show it. He simply nodded, glanced at the still present Dr. Huer and then returned his attention to Aiyanna. "We have much to talk about, then, Aiyanna. But first . . . um, could someone bring me some clothes? Streaking was big in the seventies, Ann told me, but I would really prefer not to do that here."**

**Both Huer and Aiyanna looked puzzled, but the latter quickly recovered her aplomb. "Of course, Tony, I’ll have some clothing brought here immediately."**


	12. Chapter 12

**Buck gazed at the two small babies in wonder. They lay quietly, side by side in the large basinet next to Ann’s bed. Wilma had helped Ann clean up, to be more presentable as Wilma put it, and she and the doctor and Doug cleaned up the evidence of the difficult birth. Now the scene was one of calm satisfaction, although Ann appeared ready for a very long sleep. Little Tony was squirming in Buck’s arms, calling for his daddy.**

**Doug came over and took the little boy from Buck’s arms. "Thanks," he said to Buck as the toddler hugged his father tightly. Turning his attention to the little boy, he murmured, "Do you want to see your new sisters?" The boy nodded and Doug walked the few steps to the basinet. Ann watched silently, a tired smile on her face.**

**Wilma walked over to Buck and reached a hand around his waist. "They are beautiful, aren’t they?" she asked.**

**"Yes, they are. I am amazed at how tiny they are, though. Perhaps we should leave the family alone." He had noticed that the doctor had already left the bedroom and was most likely relaxing in the living room in front of the fireplace.**

**"Good idea," Wilma agreed. They left, arm in arm and entered the dark coziness of the living room with its roaring fire. The doctor was indeed sitting quietly in one of the easy chairs. She turned when the couple entered. "I am glad I came when I did. Everyone is going to be just fine."**

**With a smile, Wilma led Buck to the couch near where the doctor was sitting. "There is plenty in the kitchen to eat. Are you hungry?"**

**"Yes, I am, but you relax for a while," Dr. Marley replied.**

**"No, I’m hungry, too. I’ll make us some turkey sandwiches and bring them in here," Wilma answered as she got up.**

**After she had left, Dr. Marley drew in a deep breath. "I will be returning to the Tunnel complex in another day or so just as soon as I am sure the babies and mom will be all right. And speaking of which, what will everyone else be doing?" she asked bluntly. "Insofar as the Tunnel is concerned."**

**"I know that Wilma and I won’t be going back immediately. With Tony Newman in the complex for now, Doug’s going to need some help here for a while," Buck said, evading the question that he knew was on the doctor’s mind. It was on his mind as well. Buck was pretty sure that Tony would re-establish his roots in the complex, but what about Ann and Doug? "Eventually we’ll be going back." A thought crossed his mind but he discarded it immediately.**

**"The children would be much better off in the future."**

**"That might be subject to debate," Buck stated. At the doctor’s sharp look, he continued. "There are more conveniences in the future, but there is a simplicity here that can’t be ignored," Buck explained. "It’s a peaceful beauty here that you don’t find on most of Earth in the future. Clean air, no pockets of radioactive wasteland as yet. And there is pure water, trees, mountains, sunsets that would rival any on other worlds."**

**"You sound as though you would like to stay," Marley said.**

**"I guess it does sound that way. However, despite what I have said, I realize that I just don’t belong here in this time or the time in which I grew up. You know the old saying; you can’t go home again," Buck replied, then sighed. "Although it’s a helluva nice place to visit here. And to be honest with you, I have learned to love the twenty-fifth century . . . and those in it." He paused. "I guess that is the main thing—the people I have learned to love." He glanced toward the kitchen then turned to gaze at the fire.**

**"Isn’t that the real key, Buck?" Marley asked. "It’s not where you’re at, but who you’re with?"**

**"I suppose that’s a great deal of it." The fire crackled merrily and the flames danced as though to music. Perhaps, thought Buck, it was the music of contentment.**

**Several minutes later, Wilma came in with a tray of sandwiches, each piled high with slabs of turkey. For someone who grew up and lived with faux everything as well as instantly processed and packaged foods, she was getting pretty good at fixing meals from the real deal, Buck thought. Though there wasn’t much on the bread beside turkey, butter and mustard, it was very good. They ate in companionable silence. "I put some of the turkey in a pot with water, like you said your mother used to do with the Christmas turkey, Buck," Wilma said after a few minutes. "I thought Ann would like some turkey soup." She paused. "I put in some salt and pepper, but what else did you say was good in that kind of soup?"**

**"Hmm," Buck began, thinking quickly. "I think that there were some peas left from the dinner yesterday. We’ll see if there are any potatoes and any other vegetables. It would be great if there were some noodles…." He finished his sandwich. "Let me go in and see what’s there," he told her. "You relax. You’ve been at it pretty hard all day."**

**All during this time, Dr. Marley had sat quietly, enjoying her sandwich. Finally she responded to the conversation. "I think what you’ve described would be good for a new mother. Actually," she added, "It would be good for all of us."**

**Buck just smiled and got up. He rummaged around in the kitchen, went into the basement where there were still some vegetables packed in barrels and then began washing and peeling. To his surprise, there were some packaged, dried noodles and he added some of those. Soon the large pot was simmering with several types of vegetables and the noodles were waiting by the side to be added. When he went back into the living room, he saw that Doug, with little Tony dozing in his lap, was sitting in front of the fire talking to Wilma and Dr. Marley.**

**"You two want something to eat?" Buck asked.**

**"We finished what was on the platter," Doug said. "Thanks." Then he looked startled. "Where’s Tony? I was told he had gone out for the doctor, but you are from the Tunnel," Doug looked at each of them in turn. "I remember someone saying he was okay…."**

**"He is, Doug," Buck said quickly. "I found him where his truck had slid off the road and the Tunnel was able to do a fix and transfer him."**

**"Was he hurt when you found him?"**

**"If anything, a mild concussion, but I think he was affected by the cold more than anything. I’m just glad I found him when I did."  
**

**Doug sighed. "I can’t believe I forgot about him."**

**"You kind of had other things on your mind, Dr. Phillips," Marley said and rightly so. "Your wife was in a dangerous situation."**

**"I’m glad you came, Doctor," Doug said softly. He watched the fire slowly dying as the toddler fell fast asleep in his arms.**

**Wilma got up and carefully picked up the child from his father’s arms. "Let me put him to bed."**

**Doug nodded. "Are you sure the babies and Ann will be all right?" he asked the doctor.**

**"I won’t go anywhere until I am sure, Dr. Phillips," Marley assured him. She yawned. "I hope you have another room where I can get a quick nap, though."**

**"Of course," Buck said. "Tony’s bungalow is next door and there are two bedrooms. You and Wilma can sleep there tonight if you want. I know Tony won’t mind."**

**Marley smiled her thanks and got up. As soon as Wilma returned, they headed toward the smaller house. Doug rubbed his eyes and tried hard to stifle a yawn.**

**"Why don’t you lie on the couch and catch a nap," Buck suggested. "I’ll take care of stoking up the stove downstairs and you will be able to listen for Ann or the babies. I’ll be back shortly and can take over for you." Before the other man could say anything, Buck was already heading for the basement. He stopped in the kitchen and checked the pot on the stove. The smell emanating from the pot reminded him of his mother’s kitchen. He threw in a small log to keep the stove going and then headed toward the basement.**

**After he had checked on the ladies, making sure they had enough wood for the night, he was back in the living room. Doug was relaxed on the couch, but not asleep. His eyes focused on the dying flames in the fireplace. It was warm so Buck didn’t grab a blanket from the back of the easy chair he sat in. "You want to try to get some sleep in the spare bedroom?" he asked.**

**"No," Doug said simply. He sucked in a deep breath. It was silent for a while. "If you and Wilma hadn’t come…. If the Tunnel hadn’t been monitoring…."**

**"I’m just glad we did and they were, Doug. I think Jerry used a word in his journal—serendipitous—in regard to what happened to you and Tony during some of your travels. I think even better was the sentiment that he expressed often that you two were part of the fabric of time and meant to be where and when you were and doing the things that you two did, if that makes sense." Doug nodded in the dim light. "I guess Wilma and I were part of that same fabric when we came."  
**

**"She could have died. She would have died," Doug said with a slight catch in his throat as he said the last. "I would have lost her."**

**Buck didn’t say anything. He had surmised the same thing and it wouldn’t have done any good whatsoever to say anything different.**

**"And these babies that have been saved by the Tunnel will be victims of the Tunnel in a little more than fifty years." Doug paused a moment. "And it’s not unreasonable to assume that they and little Tony will be around then."**

**"Your knowledge gives you the opportunity to prepare, though," Buck offered.**

**"Prepare how? With a super-duper bomb shelter? With food storage and modern gadgets that won’t mean a thing after the bombs stop falling? How long do I tell them to keep themselves and their families underground? How do I prepare them for the horrors that follow?" Doug’s voice was filled with bitterness.**

**"I don’t know, Doug," Buck said softly, remembering. "I woke five centuries later and it was still hard to cope." He recalled and shuddered. "I remember how hard it was to come to the realization that I had lost everything that I had known . . . and loved."**

**"But you have Wilma," Doug pointed out.**

**"Yes, I do now, but it took time, several years, in fact to become comfortable enough with my surroundings; with my situation to realize that I did have Wilma, and Hawk and Dr. Huer and Twiki and all the rest of my new friends." He paused. "Sometimes though, it still is hard to look around me and feel that it’s my world. Things still sometimes seem strange and unfamiliar." He laughed. "I can fly a starfighter and out-dogfight the best, but things still seem unfamiliar and I still feel out of place." Buck shook his head. "It’s a strange phenomenon, although most of my friends seem to understand it better than I do."**

**Doug nodded. "What’s it like in the 25th century, Buck?"**

**Buck laughed. "Where do I start?"**

**"You told me your story of how you got there and your first days, as well as the discovery of the Tunnel complex, but what is it like just living five centuries in the future?"**

**Buck took a deep breath and then told Doug about the _Searcher_ and about being a starfighter pilot, the worlds he had visited and some of the enemies he had made. Then he found himself describing his new friends—Twiki, Dr. Theopolis, Dr. Huer, Admiral Asimov and Hawk. And finally he talked about Wilma, but as he thought about her he found the words wouldn’t come readily and he realized that he was simply staring into the fire, thinking. "I guess that’s why I, uh, feel I couldn’t ever go back, even if it was possible."**

**"And yet, there’s something bothering you," Doug prompted.**

**"Well, maybe you know what I’m talking about…." Buck hesitated and then just said it. "I, uh, well, I sometimes wonder why I survived…."**

**"And so many others died?" Doug asked.**

**Buck nodded and then leaned back in the chair and sighed. "Sometimes I think about my family and how they must have died."**

**"I think I know what you’re talking about, Buck. I sometimes feel I walked out on the world," Doug said. "But what else could I do?"**

**"Absolutely nothing, Doug. You did what you had to do. Just as there was nothing I could do."**

**"So what do I do about my kids?"**

**"You could go back with Wilma and I," Buck suggested. "It might be a bit of a shock, but the kids would be safer and you could do the scientific work you have spent so much of your lifetime working on."**

**The fire crackled noisily in the silence that followed. Sparks popped and rose up the chimney. "I’ll think about it, Buck. There’s so much at stake, either way we decide."**

**============================**

**Dr. Tony Newman stared at the living, glowing orifice of the Tunnel in rapture. Never, in his wildest imagination did he expect to see his and Doug’s creation again. That he was five hundred years into the future didn’t even occur to him. That wasn’t real, even though the small man next to him claimed to be from that century. What was real was this complex, this temporal wonder that sat hundreds of feet below the desert floor.**

**Tony pulled his eyes away from the softly throbbing rings and looked around him. He saw where the old computers had been replaced with new ones. Walking toward the quiet consoles, he saw that although more compact, the new computer appeared to be much more powerful. That was probably the biggest reason for this group’s ability to take the technology they had found and improve on it in such a short time.**

**"Do you approve?" Dr. Huer asked beside him.**

**"Yes. Yes, I do. If we had possessed this kind of technology when the Tunnel was built, who knows?"**

**"Indeed, but the basic science was already here," another voice spoke up from behind him. Tony turned and saw a pencil thin man about his height, sandy haired, intensely blue eyes, bright with anticipation. He gazed at Tony almost worshipfully. Tony felt a bit embarrassed. "I am Doctor Frit Malcome, the head of this recovery project. It is indeed an honor to meet and work with you, Doctor Newman."**

**Tony offered his hand. "And you’ve done a great job of recovering everything here. I’m amazed at how well preserved everything is."**

**"Well, when you consider just where the Tunnel is located," Malcome said with a knowing smile.**

**Tony returned the smile. "It’s good to be back," he murmured. Then he gazed at the semi-dormant Tunnel. "I wonder how Ann has made out."**

**"We sent back a highly qualified physician to assist her in the delivery of her twin girls," Huer replied.**

**With a start, Tony turned back to the two scientists. "What? Twins?"**

**"Yes, it was a surprise to your partner, Dr. Phillips, too," Dr. Huer said.**

**"Girls. I’ll be…."**

**Footsteps echoed on the side approach to the Tunnel and Tony turned to see who the newcomer was. He stared in surprise. A lean man, again, about his height, dressed mainly in black leather approached. Coming out of the shadows, like a shadow himself, the figure exuded a sense of muted power, like a creature of the wild readying itself for the hunt. The other man’s face was one of seriousness and Tony noted that feathers covered the top and side of his head instead of hair. He walked with a hunter’s stride, careful, and yet confident; an alpha male in a wolf pack, Tony felt. A kind of holster was at his hip and within rested a weapon. Here, Tony wondered? The man studied him briefly before turning to Dr. Huer. "When will Buck be returning with Col. Deering?" he asked formally. The voice was mellow and deep, but there was power there, too. Tony decided he would not want to have this man/alien as his enemy in a dark alleyway.**

**"I would suppose when everything is in order with Dr. Phillips and his family," Huer said. "Buck hasn’t told me yet." He gestured toward Tony. "Hawk, this is Dr. Tony Newman, one of the scientists who built this complex and the first man to use the Tunnel. Tony, this is Hawk, Buck’s friend from the planet Throm."**

**"Glad to meet you, Hawk," Tony said extending his hand. The birdman took it in a quick, tight grasp, as though the fingers were studying him as well. "As the old cliché goes, any friend of Buck’s is a friend of mine."**

**Hawk just nodded, not saying anything until his fingers released their hold. "You and Buck have hunted together. I trust Buck’s judgment in friends as well, Dr. Newman," he said simply.**

**"Buck calls me Tony," the scientist said quietly. Hawk nodded again and smiled softly. "I owe Buck my life now," Tony added meaningfully. Hawk said nothing, but Tony knew there were volumes in the dark hooded eyes.**

**"We are letting the Tunnel and the power source stay dormant for a while before we check the past," Huer reassured Hawk. "As soon as Buck, Wilma and Dr. Marley are back, we can begin some historical probing for your people."**

**"You mean you have been able to get the Tunnel to open up into the past of other planets?" Tony asked, taken aback.**

**"Oh, no, Hawk’s people originated on Earth, Dr. Newman," Dr. Huer responded.**

**Tony said nothing in his surprise.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Ann had not heard much of the conversation after the doctor had given her something for the pain. The first thing she really remembered was waking to bright sunshine peeking through the curtains and seeing Doug with the babies. His face was infused with happiness, even while there was something else that tempered that happiness. She could almost guess what it was.**

**As quietly as she could, she shifted to get more comfortable, but he still heard her and turned, one of the twins still tucked on his arm. "How are you feeling?" he asked as the baby made sucking sounds against his arm.**

**She smiled. "She’s hungry."**

**"You didn’t answer my question," he stated bluntly.**

**"Actually, I’m feeling quite good after yesterday." She paused. "It was yesterday, wasn’t it? I haven’t missed a day?"**

**"Of course not, Dr. Marley said you and the babies would be well aware of what’s going on by mid-day. You beat it by a few hours and apparently so did one of the kids," he said with a chuckle. "Any pain?"**

**"Back hurts some, little sore in front, but otherwise…." She reached for the baby in his arms and he handed her to Ann. The new mother quickly started nursing her hungry baby. The little one began awkwardly at first, clutching on with half-open mouth and pinching, but soon picked up steam with a little coaching from mom. "We didn’t come up with names for twins," she stated as the baby enjoyed its first meal.**

**"I still want one of them named for you," Doug replied quickly.**

**It was an old argument that she wasn’t prepared to deal with right now—or any other time, either. "No. It’s bad enough when I call Tony and have two responses. Not going to do that with these."**

**Doug sighed. "Okay, we had decided on Ruth, so what about the other baby."**

**"After Jerry."**

**"That’s a male name."**

**"There are girls named Gerri."**

**"Jennifer." Doug simply stated it as though it was already decided.**

**Ann studied his face. She liked that name, but didn’t want to give in too soon. "Middle name then."**

**Doug made a face. "Jennifer Gerri? That is too much alliteration, I think."**

**"No, Ricker. As though it was a maiden name," Ann reasoned.**

**"But it’s not. If that was the case, it should be…."**

**"Doug, darling, I think we owe Jerry a great deal. And I think he’d be flattered to have a couple of our babies named after him."**

**Doug started to say something, but chose not to. Finally he nodded. All right, Ruth Ricker Phillips and Jennifer Ricker Phillips."**

**Ann nodded in satisfaction. She noticed that the baby was finished eating and dozing with the nipple in her mouth. "The other baby’s awake; let me see if she wants anything."**

**Doug put the first baby into the basinet and then handed Ann the second one. "How in the world are we going to tell them apart? They are identical."**

**Ann laughed softly as the baby nursed sleepily. "This one is a bit smaller, but I see your point. This one is Ruth and if you put a ribbon around her ankle, it will make things easier until their personalities begin showing."**

**Doug chuckled along with his wife. "Three beautiful women," he murmured, sitting next to Ann and rubbing a finger along her cheek.**

**She blushed slightly, then sobered. "Doug, I don’t want the children to have to live through the Holocaust. I want them to feel free to raise their own families without fear."**

**He nodded. "So do I," he murmured, softly.**

**She reached over and laid her free hand on his arm. "Let’s go with Wilma and Buck."**

**"Not blindly, Ann." He edged closer to her and put his arms around her. "I want to check it out. I want to see this place and time. I did too much jumping blindly for too long."**

**"I realize that, but at least the kids…."**

**"I know, darling," he murmured, kissing her. "I’ve been thinking about it before the Tunnel contacted us and even more for the past four days. I only want the best for you and the kids."**

**"Thank you," she said softly, returning the kiss.**

**=================================**

**Buck returned a day after Dr. Marley did, and it being the day after New Year’s Day where Doug and Ann were; he had stayed and celebrated with them, Wilma and the kids. He had a note from Doug, who had insisted that he was more than capable of handling things on the ranch now. Tony read it without comment and then stuck it in his pocket, again without comment. Buck noticed that Tony was working closely with Frit Malcome, seemingly totally back at home in the complex. As the twentieth century scientist continued to familiarize himself with the new computers, Buck sat back and watched. Although he had studied the workings of the Tunnel console, especially with the new computers installed, he still felt he was out of his league. Right now, the scientists were mainly working and watching events in Doug and Ann's time frame, who were staying in Montana, for the moment. Wilma was staying with them for another few days to help Ann with the children. But later….**

**Later, the Tunnel crew would search anywhere, watch any event, record and keep it for the historians. Right now, Buck felt as though he was an extra thumb or the fourteenth donut in a baker’s dozen.**

**Bent over the console, studying some of the improvements, Tony finally rubbed his back and groaned softly.**

**"You all right?" Buck asked quietly.**

**Startled, Tony rose up sharply and swung around. "Oh, I’m sorry, Buck. I didn’t hear you at all. This stuff is fascinating. I can’t believe how much improvement this little bit of technology does."**

**"You ought to see what five hundred years has done for transportation," Buck replied with a grin.**

**Tony didn’t say anything for a moment. "You remember that conversation we had about what it was like in your new century?"**

**"Sure."**

**"It’s my century now, it would seem. But right now, it’s not really . . . real," Tony said hesitantly.**

**Buck smiled softly. "You want to take a short visit to New Chicago?"**

**"Maybe with a detour out in space?" Tony ventured, excitement in his voice.**

**"Yeah, the last time you went up, it wasn’t in the most favorable of circumstances, was it?" Buck asked.**

**"Might I mention that your twentieth century space adventure wasn’t either," Tony chided.**

**"You won’t forget this one, though," Buck assured his friend. Then he heard the distinctive muted tapping of Hawk’s boot heels. He knew that Hawk felt about the same as he did, like a second left foot. Until the others came forward in time, the scientists didn’t want to chance searching on another temporal plane, so Hawk was left without the ability to do any research of his own, despite having been promised. "And I bet Hawk will be happy to show you a bit of his skills in his own ship, too," Buck said without turning around.**

**"Yes, I do need to take the War Hawk up before she falls apart from disuse," the birdman said sardonically from just behind him.**

**"When?" Tony asked.**

**"Now?" Buck suggested.**

**Tony grinned. "It’s a deal!"**

**In less than an hour, they were sitting on the desert floor in two similarly-sized scout ships, blinking in the bright sunlight. Tony had almost begun biting his nails as they had slowly navigated the narrow passage up to the surface. He felt he could have measured the distance on each side of the corridor in micro-millimeters rather than the few inches that Buck told him they had on each side. Hawk’s ship had simply retracted part of his side wings and had a slightly easier time of it. Now Hawk and Buck’s ships sat almost wing-tip to wing-tip in the midst of a seemingly barren landscape.**

**"Under normal circumstances, the ships are kind of catapulted from their berths," Buck informed his passenger. "You’ll get that experience when we leave New Chicago. Ready?" Tony nodded. "Hawk, you go first. Show Tony what that war bird of yours is made of."**

**"You will have to take off shortly after me, or that experience will be only a few seconds," Hawk said from the communicator.**

**Buck simply laughed, but even as Hawk was lifting his craft a few inches above the surface, Buck was powering up. Suddenly the War Hawk shot skyward, almost gone before Tony realized it had taken off. Buck lifted and shot after the birdman. The sky turned from blue to navy to glittering black within only a scant few minutes. Buck heard the sharp intake of Tony’s breath behind him and laughed again. Hawk ship appeared beside them, then loop-de-looped around them. Buck shot forward out of the encircling maneuver and headed toward the moon, sitting serenely on one side of the view screen. It looked much more serene than his one and only encounter. Buck did something and the little craft seemed to pick up speed. They vaulted close to the moon, seemingly skimming the surface from only a half-mile up and then went around it.**

**Tony felt his stomach sink even lower as Buck dodged among asteroids in a belt that was apparently less dense than he had thought. Of course, he was a scientist and knew that the idea of a ‘belt’ was a relative term. Still, the objects that Buck was dodging were closer than suited him. Hawk showed up on the starboard side, his wings extended, and did his own aerial ballet, weaving and swooping like an earth-bound bird of prey. They did that for a short time and then looped back and headed past the moon again, this time swinging around the dark side.**

**"Buck?"**

**"Mmm?"**

**"How long did it take you to learn to fly like this?"**

**"Actually, not long. Even though we’re in space, the mechanics are similar to F-15 Eagles that I learned to fly back in my Air Force days. The technology allows for the same kind of maneuverability." There was a moment of silence. "It . . . it was something to do."**

**Tony didn’t ask more. "You’re good at it," he said with a quick gulp as Buck finished calling some numbers to some entity he presumed was ground-based and then swooped into the upper atmosphere. A slight bumping of the craft and they were sliding over desert. Were they going back to the Tunnel? He had thought he had heard Buck say something to ‘New Chicago.’**

**"If you think I’m good at it, you didn’t pay close attention to Hawk."**

**The object of Buck’s comment ‘waggled’ his wings and then flew aft. "Oh, I was paying attention, but we were flying so fast, it was hard to tell who was doing what."**

**"Believe me, Hawk is the best space pilot around."**

**"We are going to Chicago, right?" Tony asked.**

**"New Chicago, right."**

**"What desert are we over?"**

**"This is what’s left of the heart of the Midwest," Buck said solemnly.**

**Tony ogled the tortured and burnt out land below him. Not even the sparkling spires ahead of them took away from the horrible devastation below. "I . . . uh, don’t know what to say."**

**"The greatest majority of the land east of the Mississippi River was totally blasted. The West didn’t take quite as big a hit, but was affected, too," Buck said. "We’re going in."**

**Tony didn’t say anything more as they entered a cavernous area of lights and activity. There was a great variety of spacecraft, most like what he was in, but there were some that appeared to be more for cargo. They landed close behind several other ships and Buck powered his ship down. The hatch popped open and Tony slowly stood up, watching, in amazement, the beehive-like activity all around him.**

**"Welcome back, Captain Rogers," a female voice called out. "Who’s your . . . uh, friend."**

**Tony looked toward the voice and saw a petite, blonde-haired woman in a snow-white uniform smiling at him. He smiled back. "Dr. Anthony Newman, ma’am," he replied before Buck could say anything.**

**"Doctor? As in med bay or as in Science Directorate?" she asked, striding closer. Buck had already climbed down and was taking what the woman had in her hand, signing something off and handing it back.**

**"Science Directorate," Tony answered quickly. She didn’t leave when Buck handed what appeared to be an equivalent of a clipboard back to her.**

**"Welcome to New Chicago, Dr. Newman," she said with a broad grin. Her eyes told of a variety of welcomes possible to him. Tony felt his cheeks getting warm.**

**"Hey, where’s my greeting?" Buck asked, teasingly.**

**"Captain, I lost a bet because of you," she jibed back. "Do you think I’m going to raise Colonel Deering’s ire flirting with you?" She turned her attention back to Tony. "If you stay for very long, I can show you all the fun places, Doctor."**

**"Tony, ma’am, and I don’t think I am going to be able to stay very long."**

**"No, I’m just showing Tony a bit of New Chicago and then we have to head back down toward New Phoenix."**

**She frowned, but then smiled reassuringly to Tony. "You do need to come back when you have some time, Tony. I really could show you a fun time."**

**Tony raised his eyebrows, but smiled his reassurance. "If I am able to…."**

**"We have to go, Simma. I will be sure to give Tony all the information he needs to know for his next visit," Buck said, motioning for Tony to follow.**

**When they had left the landing area, Tony asked, "Where’s Hawk?"**

**"He went back to _Searcher_ to extend our leave, check on Twiki and Miru, and then he’ll be back," Buck answered. "Between you and me, I think he was a bit bored, too."**

**"Twiki? Didn’t Wilma mention him, or did you? And Miru?"**

**"Don’t remember, but Twiki’s an ambuquad, like that one," Buck pointed to a small vaguely human-shaped robot. "He was fried helping me out on another planet not too long ago. And Miru is Hawk’s ward, another bird-person from a different planet. She’s the local equivalent of an exchange student." Buck led Tony to through a corridor and then to door that led into a transport that reminded Tony of the New York subway, except this was above ground. "Hawk’s people ended up getting scattered all over the galaxy," Buck continued. "All of them we know of not having a clue that there were others on other planets."**

**"But you said that they came from Earth," Tony prompted.**

**"Yes." And Buck explained the findings that he and others had made over the past few years.**

**"Easter Islands? That’s intriguing. I can see why Hawk was so interested in the Tunnel." They arrived at another point that was at the top of a large building and Buck led them to an open-air walkway. There was a slight shimmering of the sky above them and a haze in the distance that Tony took to be evidence of the blasted lands.**

**"Yes," Buck replied and leaned on the railing of the walkway. The ground appeared to be at least twenty or more stories below them. Everything around them bustled like the spaceport had. "Out there, give or take a degree or two, my family lies buried."**

**"After five hundred years, you actually found their remains?" Tony asked, incredulous. Then he wondered if he had gone too far. Buck didn’t say anything for a long time.**

**"Dr. Huer said something to the same effect. He said I was lucky there was any kind of marker for them at all."**

**This time Tony didn’t respond.**

**"One of the reasons I transferred to _Searcher_ was so I wouldn’t be reminded so blatantly of what happened right after my accident on the _Ranger_." Buck shook his head. "Come on and see what I did to the historical wing of the Science Directorate. Dr. Junius is a good friend of mine."**

**"I think Wilma said you were his best customer, too."**

**Buck laughed, his good humor restored. "Yeah, I liked his junk better than the 25th century mod stuff they have here."**

**Like Buck, Tony enjoyed the quirky little man and his theories on the different salvage items. It was only a buzzing on Buck’s communicator that pulled them away and back to the Tunnel.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Buck was sitting alone at the console, listening to the soft whirr, chuckle, and murmur of the computers as they scanned yet another time ‘zone.’ He had been surprised a couple of days ago when Dr. Malcome had come to him and Hawk with the offer to work on ‘temporal surveillance.’ Buck had known that Hawk would jump on that deal because the Tunnel might chance on something about his ancestors.**

**"I thought you said you weren’t going to split the surveillance until Doug and Ann and the kids were here," Buck pointed out.**

**"Tony and I overcame that problem, Buck," Malcome said. "We have a computer dedicated to keeping the link with Montana, January, 1936. The other computers can scan and record. While they will be doing most of the work, I would like someone to oversee and make sure everything is running smoothly during each shift. The operator can also direct the computer a bit," he added with a slight grin. "With your knowledge of history, Buck, you could suggest some times that would be most beneficial to our historians. You know, the beginning of space travel, the milestones in the history of the continent we reside on now, things like that."**

**"But we’re rocket jockeys, not scientists," Buck protested, mildly, he realized in retrospect.**

**Malcome looked a bit puzzled at first and then smiled in earnest, when he saw the interest in Buck’s eyes. "You are both intelligent and it’s not hard to work this console, especially with these new computers."**

**"We also assumed that we’d be heading back to our posts on _Searcher _as soon as Wilma came back," Hawk added.**

**"And when she does, you can," Malcome explained. "But right now, we’re a little short handed until Ann and Doug do come to the complex."**

**"And you can’t get more scientists?" Buck continued playing Devil’s advocate.**

**"Dr. Huer is adamant about keeping this as tight a secret as possible and that means no more people until we have added safeguards in place to prevent what happened five hundred years ago from ever happening again." Malcome was not smiling now.**

**Buck nodded and glanced at Hawk. The birdman was very much interested in sticking around for a while longer. "Understandable. Okay, we’ll play switchboard operator for a while."**

**"Huh?" Malcome asked. "What?"**

**"Just a phrase, Doctor. No problem. We’ll take our turns watching the console and the Tunnel."**

**So it was that two days later, Buck watched the operations during the main sleep cycle. His first shift had been interesting, watching events that awakened memories from his past. There was the Civil Rights era. It had been fascinating seeing some of the historical figures that had only been pictures in history books or newscasts when he was growing up. Then there had been Kitty Hawk, and the American Revolution. Those had been a couple of his ‘suggestions’ to the computer. But tonight? Tonight he felt restless. He let the computer decide and watched the Kennedy assassination. All during the event he felt something whirling inside. How easy to just go back and find Oswald or who-the-heck-else was in that bindery. Then he remembered Jerry’s comment about this scientific theory that would not allow such a thing to happen and he felt a bit depressed. Novikof? Norikov? He shook his head, unable to come up with the guy’s name.**

**Without even thinking, he typed in a date into the computer and watched the picture within the Tunnel rings fog, dissipate and then reform. His rocket was heading up from the launch pad in a cloud of smoke and bright orange light from the beach at the Cape. It was just before sunset. It was also interesting seeing the event from the outside. When the rocket booster successfully detached from his craft, Buck decided to change the venue. He moved the time forward a month. Same place, more somber, less bustle. Another month, same place. Things seemed to be getting back to normal. He edged the computer up in one-month increments until about August, then he saw dark and swirling winds whipping a blasted beach. Cape Canaveral had taken a hit when the nukes had begun criss-crossing the continents. Indeed, he would guess from the way the ocean behaved that there might have been a whole chunk carved from the state of Florida. And he remembered that there had been—almost the entire southern half of the state had disappeared in smoke and ocean.**

**Taking a breath, Buck changed the date to closer to what Jerry had said was the actual date of the beginning of the Great Holocaust. A mushroom cloud rose briefly before the Tunnel wavered and changed to the previous setting. With a frown, Buck studied the readout. He hadn’t put in any kind of parameters. The Tunnel had arbitrarily changed. Something drew him to examine the events closer. He couldn’t quite bring himself to look at Chicago yet, so he put in New York City, same date in August that the Tunnel had changed from before. This time the Tunnel didn’t even show a brief view. The picture wavered, flickered, sparked and darkened.**

**Buck looked at the date, it was the same date he had put in, but several hours later. Smoke from fires painted the scene a grim hellish hue, red and gray and occasional yellow sparks of small explosions. Sirens echoed ethereally in the distance, horns, fire alarms added to the quality of being in hell. In the darkness, Buck saw mounds of dust-covered objects. He assumed that the larger ones were vehicles, the smaller were . . . bodies. There was almost no movement, except a cold, howling wind. To his shock, there seemed to be a flatness to the scene. No skyscrapers remained. It was like a scene from Dante’s Inferno, what he remembered of it in his college lit class.**

**Taking an even deeper breath, Buck tried other cities. The date held, but the hour would never go any closer than a few hours after the hit. He remotely wondered just why it seemed important, but deep down inside something was stirring and Buck figured he knew why. One thing was very certain, though. What he had told Tony was true. Most of the northeastern United States lay scoured by the nukes. Every damned one of them stockpiled over the years must have been set off. He felt his vision waver as tears smarted in the corners of his eyes. _How dare they do this to his world! How the hell did they get off playing God? _he raged inside. Blinking, Buck changed the setting again and he saw Chicago, or what was left of it. Fires, ruins and the horrible howlings of man-made instruments that had been meant to protect and defend. Now they were just reminders of man’s ineffectiveness and stupidity.**

**He noted that the date was several days after what he had put in. Buck tried again and got a vision of dead and dying people walking like zombies through smoke filled streets. Then the view wavered to a few hours later. The Tunnel was either being arbitrary or it simply couldn’t hold the place and time for some reason. _For some reason…. _It was the radiation. The Tunnel was powered by nuclear energy and the conflagration he was seeing was caused by raw radiation. If he used a probe, Buck thought. Tony had told him of using multiple probes, had even tried one that very day. It had been a success. The new ones were temporary, only lasting for a certain number of hours in their respective time zones before breaking down, but the probes allowed for better recording of historical events during that time. He got up and almost trotted to the equipment lockers just under the observation gallery. The devices that Malcome and Tony had been working on that day lay securely in their cradles. They looked like undersized footballs, each only about the size of his fist and flat on the bottom so they would rest easily before transfer.**

**Buck pulled one out and strode back to the console. He set the controls on standby and took the probe deep into the Tunnel. It only needed a push of a button to activate. The Tunnel would do the rest when it sent the device to a pre-set location and time. It took only a moment. He would set it for just before the moment of destruction. The place would be his brother’s address. They would be together—his family. If he could give warning, perhaps that would be enough.**

**Buck didn’t think; he only acted. He didn’t remember all of Tony and Doug’s attempts and actions in the past, only concentrated on what was possessing his mind and will at that moment. Buck didn’t think of failure, only what he had the opportunity to do. He made sure the device was sitting as far back as he could take it, then returned to the console. The primary computer was still locked to Ann, Doug and Wilma’s temporal setting, the secondary was still wavering slightly at the time several days after the nuclear strike. Fallout was drifting gently from a dark sky, looking like a dirty snowstorm. A shrouded sun tried to show itself, but only shed a bit of weak light over the doomsday vista.**

**Buck reset the computer for his desired time and locked the coordinates in. He took a deep breath and then keyed in the probe countdown sequence. The Tunnel ‘arms’ slid toward the center of the orifice, and the probe sounded with a slight rattling hiss that told of imminent launch. A soft explosive sound, along with a puff of smoky haze and the probe was gone. Buck didn’t even watch the focusing arms retract, he studied the computer readouts and then cursed silently. The date had changed again. He tried to change it back, but the computer was locked. It wavered of its own accord and then settled on a time. Same day, but about four or so hours later than Jerry’s time of the beginning of the nuclear war in his journal. The Tunnel cleared and the picture clarified. Perversely, the computer had shipped the probe not only later than he had wanted but also farther away. He cursed again, this time aloud.**

**He watched the smoke billow from the shells of what was once a vibrant downtown area. Exactly where was it, he wondered? He tried to pick out landmarks from what was there. He typed directions into the computer and this time it cooperated. There was a sign, and the computer zoomed enough to give him the clues he needed. He was gazing at a scene just south of the river. A sign at the top of an overturned bus told him that he was looking north, toward the university. It wavered again, but Buck knew exactly where the probe was.**

**It was a straight shot to his brother’s place if you wanted to walk about fifteen blocks. He could do it. He could get there and give them the aid they needed. But the radiation would still be incredibly intense, not the neutron and gamma radiation of the initial blast, but the beta particles in the fallout.**

**Then he remembered the protective suits. They were in the same equipment area as the probes. The outfits resembled his Directorate flight suit but with added protection, including a re-breathing pack and a helmet with visor. Buck had wondered about the suits here in the control area, then came to the realization that eventually Dr. Huer had wanted to examine this event more closely than with a probe and computer video. He wanted to send someone back to gather some of that information.**

**Leaving the console, Buck returned to the storage area and dug through the protective equipment. Yup, he thought in triumph, radiation suits. He studied the controls and determined that he would have a tight time frame of exposure, but could still do what he needed to do within the limits of the suits safe operation. With absolutely no thought, Buck donned the one closest to his build, putting on the helmet under his arm, and walked back to the Tunnel control console. He had to admit that they were much more comfortable and easier to move around in than the ones of the 20th century. He set the computer’s automatic controls and then stood up, gazing at the dark and hellish scene in front of him.**

**"Don’t do this, Buck," Tony’s voice startled him from his brief reverie. The scientist’s hand reached to turn off the automatic controls. Buck grabbed Tony’s wrist as the fingers barely touched the button. The other man didn’t flinch, nor did he struggle against Buck’s restraint. "Buck, I know what’s eating at you. I really do know how you feel—the last of your family. No matter that you have become a part of this time and place, you have left part of yourself in that time," he said, his head nodding toward the flickering picture between the Tunnel extension bars. His finger reached for the panel again and with a touch, switched off the automatic controls.**

**Buck didn’t say anything, only glared at his new friend for a moment. "No, you don’t know entirely how I feel. You at least still had aunts and uncles and cousins. You had a place, a time, an anchor."**

**"No! I didn’t have an anchor. Yeah, I had relatives, but I didn’t have my own family. Buck, it’s too dangerous there now. There won’t be anything you can do."**

**"How do you know? Have you watched?" Buck felt his face flush with the heat of anger. Every minute lost…. No, this was a time portal. Still, his mind chafed at what he saw as quickly disappearing opportunity. He realized he still had hold of Tony’s wrist and released it.**

**"No, I haven’t watched. I have tried to avoid watching," Tony retorted. He rubbed his wrist almost absently, willing Buck to understand the futility of what he wanted or hoped to do. "Frit has only tested travel to this time fix with probes, Buck. He was going to test with protected animals next. Only then was he going to send someone back with instruments to gather readings if the experiments worked. At least that was what the council had proposed. With what I've read in Jerry’s journal, I think it would be much too dangerous to do anything but send probes back. I am wondering at the worth of even doing that. It happened, it’s over, done, and viewing, recording and experiencing carnage and horror like that just doesn’t seem worthwhile to me."**

**Buck knew Tony was grabbing at straws, trying to dissuade him. "You saying you couldn’t send me back? Or that you don’t have the authority?" Buck asked testily, ignoring Tony’s last argument. Then he took a deep breath. "Sorry, I shouldn’t be taking this out on you. But even if it was by accident, you were able to see your father." Buck rubbed his hand across his forehead and shook his head. "I just want to see my home. Say a final good-bye. Help them if I can. Close it if I can’t help them."  
**

**This time Tony sucked in a breath. As he thought, this was the heart of the matter. But would just seeing them be enough? "I know I was able to say good-bye, Buck, but it was accidental…." Tony stopped and considered. Talk to him, reason, maybe he could get Buck to reconsider this move. He studied the picture showing from the Tunnel. It showed a horrific view of smoke, dust, ash and muted fires. There were alarms and sirens wailing in the distance. "This where your family is?" he asked softly.**

**"Well, yeah, it runs right through downtown, but my brother lived a little north of the real downtown area," Buck answered. "The probe ended up about fifteen blocks south. Radiation affected it, I guess."**

**"Probably," Tony said. "And your folks?"**

**"They moved to a suburb when my dad retired, but I have a hunch." He really had more than a hunch, but he wasn’t going to explain it.**

**Tony just nodded and returned to his computer. He typed in more minute coordinates to change the location setting, but nothing changed. "Not going to change, Buck."**

**"I know; it wouldn’t for me either." The streets were filled with a noxious greenish fog. There were a few muted screams, sirens that continued to rise and fall, and the rumbling of falling masonry and bricks. "Tony, let me go ahead and go through. I have the suit; it will protect me."**

**"Buck, I can’t, in good conscience, do that. The radiation is still dangerously high," Tony argued, his hand sweeping toward the Tunnel. Buck looked unconvinced. His mouth was set and his countenance hard. Tony continued his argument. "I tried to warn my father, too, but it was to no avail. He didn’t believe me until after the bombs began to fall." He shook his head. "Then it was too late."**

**"I know that, Tony."**

**"Buck, the radiation is too high," Tony pointed out again.**

**"Dr. Huer had in mind to do some on-site study. Malcome is his employee and wouldn’t do anything without his say-so."**

**"Dr. Huer?" Tony rubbed his hand through his hair in frustration. "Oh, hell, who am I fooling? I’m sure he was planning on doing that. All of Frit’s experiments, notes and work point to that. But I am not going to send you to what could be your death. There hasn't been enough study," he said vehemently. "No, Buck, I can't do this."**

**Buck leaned forward until he was only inches from Tony’s face. "I seem to remember that you chose to enter that Tunnel alone. You set the controls, you went in blind, and you didn't consult a soul. Now, I am not the expert that you are, but I have got this ready to go through without your help." He paused and then said in a much lower voice. "I’d rather have you helping me. What's your choice, Dr. Newman?" _Why can’t I just let it go? _Evenas he stood locked in a contest of wills with the scientist, Buck wondered and agonized. This was the action of a madman, he railed against himself. But he didn’t back down. He couldn’t. It was something he had to do.**

**With a sigh, Tony nodded. "I should still tell you no, Buck, and just walk away and let you do commit whatever suicide you want to commit." The scientist sucked in a deep breath. "Don’t get me wrong; I do understand how you feel. But I also realize that I simply can't let you do this alone. Are you sure you want to do this? I guarantee you, it’s going to be much harder to deal with than you expect. This radiation is playing hell on the instruments."**

**"I'm sure and yes, I know."**

**Tony sighed. "All right. You’ve got the suit on already. Is there anything else you need to prepare? You sure that the suit will protect you?"**

**"So I have been told. Let’s do this now." Buck donned the helmet.**

**"Buck, I’ve been through a lot because of my rash decisions. You sure about this?" Tony repeated. "We’ve become good friends, you’ve saved my life in more ways than you could consider. I feel I am sending you to your death."**

**"Yes, I’m sure and no, you aren’t sending me to my death." Buck began walking toward the gaping Tunnel. Although the pictures of destruction weren’t there anymore, it was still like something ready to swallow him. It did not seem welcoming like the last time. Buck shook off the feelings. "And this isn’t rash," he said over his shoulder. "I had been dreaming of being able to do something like this ever since I awakened in this century." And he realized it was true. He had.**

**"Just keep walking," Tony said from behind him. "And may God be with you," he added fervently.**

**That was what Buck did—kept walking. Into the smoke and haze of the Tunnel. Soon he was falling, floating among the rainbow motes of light he had experienced before. Again, it felt as though it was angry, like something ready to eat him and Buck wondered about his decision….**


	15. Chapter 15

**This time, despite the debris, he landed on his feet. Buck found that even with the re-breather, the air was cloyingly heavy with thick, dark smoke drifting like oil on water. Not that it was hot, although heaven only knew; it could be stifling this time of year. In fact it was fairly cool, he noted after glancing at his temperature controls. He looked up and saw the pale globe of the sun trying to pierce the clouds above him. It was the middle of the day but appeared as though it was twilight.**

**And there was a light dust falling from the sky, like dirty snow. _Nuclear winter. It didn’t waste time occurring,_ Buck thought as he quickly familiarized himself with the area. He was at North State and Wacker. Behind him a bus was lying on its side. Buck heard moans coming from inside, but as much as it bothered him; as much as he wanted to help, he couldn’t. They were already dead. He gazed toward the river, couldn’t see it because of the fog. However, Buck figured he didn’t really want to see it.**

**The pallid sun was totally hidden now, and the dimness increased to almost nighttime darkness. Buck walked north, staying in the even more dense shadows. Bodies littered the remains of the sidewalks. Some even still moved in spasmodic twitching. He needed to get north of Ontario and he didn’t have a great deal of time. There was no telling how long Tony would allow him to stay or even if Malcome or Dr. Huer would order his return.**

**Despite the heaviness of the air, Buck broke into a jogging trot. Occasionally, it was dark enough in the shadows that he stumbled, but even though there was a flashlight with his suit, he didn’t want to call undue attention to himself. It reminded him of the eeriness of the time when he roamed the streets with Twiki and Theo right after his arrival, except this was much worse. He continued steadily, striving to reach Ontario as soon as possible. "Tony, if you can hear me, is there any way you can send me closer to Loyola?"**

**There was a pause and Buck figured Tony was studying pre-Holocaust maps of the area. "No, still no cooperation from the Tunnel. Once you get there, though, I think I can send another probe to tighten the link."**

**"S’okay," he panted and broke into a faster run. He reached Ontario and stopped for a short breath. It was slightly better here. The nuke must have hit the south side, probably no closer than Dearborn Park. He grimaced. Some of the snobs would call that a blessing, but there was nothing redeeming about this. Absolutely nothing! He felt a stitch in his side that was annoying, but he continued. He crossed Erie and then Huron before stopping to breathe again. His brother lived near Loyola. Buildings were flattened here and the damage seemed more extreme, making Buck reconsider his prior assessment. Then he realized that the nuclear winds had taken down more of the residential homes and apartment buildings because of their less rigid construction. He shuddered, thinking of his family visiting this area. But they had been buried, so someone had to have survived the initial blast.**

**Turning toward the east, Buck slowed to a walk, studying the buildings, the streets. A car had hit a light pole, bending it almost double. Everything must have happened at once, he thought. No warning to anyone as to what was happening. One moment things were normal and the next—Hell.**

**He found the apartment. The façade was rubble on the sidewalk, but still he recognized it. The chronometer indicated that he was more than halfway beyond acceptable levels of radiation exposure. He pushed his way past the slightly open door and headed up the stairs. They creaked ominously but he continued. Buck reached his brother’s apartment and heard a cry for help. The door was locked but it only took two shoves for it to cave in. Plaster from the wall and ceiling cascaded down on him. The outer window had blown in, bringing with it the dusty, noxious fog that had swirled around him like a hungry cat around his ankles. Buck grabbed a skewed tablecloth from the table that looked as though it had been ready for dinner. Dishes lay scattered, food spilled, but it was unrecognizable.**

**To his shock, he saw his mother lying on the floor, her hand clutching someone half on, half off the couch. It was his father. Buck quickly checked them over and found that they were both dead. Their fingers were cold, but their bodies still held a measure of warmth. Regardless, he was too late. They had to have died in the initial blast or from the shock of the events. Buck shook his head and got up, the cloth still clutched in his hand. He quickly covered the window with it and then he pulled out his flashlight in the added darkness.**

**"Who . . . who are you?" a weak, rough voice almost behind him whispered. There was a hacking cough and in the near darkness, Buck found his brother, Frank in a corner near the doorway to the bedroom.**

**With the flashlight still in his hand, Buck knelt beside his brother. "It’s me, Buck."**

**"Buck?!" Then more coughing and hacking.**

**Buck saw that Frank was coughing up blood. His heart became a rock in his chest. "Take it easy, Frank."**

**"What do you mean, take it easy! Mom and Dad are dead; Marilyn is dead, too. Or almost was when I last checked," Frank said in a rush, coughing more bloody sputum onto the sleeve of his shirt at the end. "I guess my pit stop during the commercial . . . saved me from a quicker end. Damn!" There was more coughing and wheezing.**

**"I tried to get here earlier," Buck said softly, not knowing what else to say.**

**"What . . . the hell . . . you doing here," Frank struggled to say, even as Buck raised his brother’s shoulders to lean against the television cabinet. "How?"**

**"Frank, it’s a long story, but I am from the future, to put it in a nutshell. I finally found the means to come back and it . . .and I was too late," Buck replied, his voice cracking at the end. How, after all this time, all his desire, could he get here too late to do anything but feel regret. Tony was right, Buck thought with a silent curse.**

**"Yeah, too late…." Frank said nothing for a moment. "What happened? Bomb . . . but why? Who?"**

**"Complicated Frank and no one actually knew what happened until very recently…." Then Buck saw the irony of his statement. "Recently in my new time, that is. Some idiots had a ‘hit them first before they hit us’ attitude and shipped a bomb to the enemy. Of course, there was retaliation. Apparently, no warning."**

**"No. Watching TV…. Smelling Mom’s roast cooking."**

**Buck remembered those days very well. He set the flashlight up so that it would illuminate the room a bit better without being right in Frank’s eyes. "Let me check Marilyn. Where are the kids?"**

**"Decided to do some fishing and camping up in Wisconsin this weekend with Marilyn’s husband." More coughing. "Maybe they didn’t get this."**

**Buck quickly checked his sister and found her to be dead, even as Frank had said. She had died recently, even her fingers were still warm. He returned to his brother’s side. "Frank, I’m sorry. I wish I could have been here. Wish I . . . I…."**

**"Mom and Dad went through hell . . . for a little while. Were here to spend a quiet weekend." Buck could tell that Frank was quickly succumbing. "But they kept telling the . . . investigators you were no traitor."**

**Buck was appalled. They were here to escape from all the crap that the government had imposed because of him. He moaned softly in despair. They might have avoided this.**

**Frank seemed to understand what Buck had realized. "Don’t blame yourself, Buck." He paused for breath and Buck put his arm around his brother’s shoulders to help keep Frank from sliding back down to the floor. "If not that," he added slowly. "Then the news people wanting . . . an interview after Ranger . . . was lost." While he was catching his breath after another coughing fit, his brother’s eyes were questioning. "Besides, if . . . if I am any indication . . . would have been slower death." He took a moment to try to get more air in his lungs. "How did you live?"**

**"Cold storage. Cryogenically preserved. My ship was found and I was revived after five hundred years," Buck said quickly. "The world survived, although it was difficult for a while. I’m sorry," he added, choking back his emotions.**

**"Why . . . sorry?" Frank gazed at his brother affectionately. "I didn’t believe you were, either, Buck. Traitor, that is," He coughed again and panted, trying to get breath. "You came back. Why?"**

**"I wanted to try to save all of you," Buck said, feeling the tears slide down his cheeks under the visor.**

**"You always were a survivor, bro." More coughing. Buck felt his heart being torn apart. "If you can—bury us, please…. If you can’t…."**

**"I will, Frank. I will. If I can, I’ll also find the kids and Michael."**

**"Won’t ask how, but . . . but that’s a good thought to hold. Thanks, Buck. Thanks." He took a tremulous breath. "Love you…." Then the breath released and there wasn’t another to replace it.**

**"I love you, too, Frank." Buck felt his brother’s hand fall from his arm. "Frank?" Buck felt for a pulse, but found none. Frank was mercifully gone; but he was still gone. Buck took his brother in his arms and held him close, even as the short-term warning signal buzzed in his ear. The tears flowed unchecked. With great care, Buck stood up, still holding his brother close to his body. He bent slightly and gathered Frank in his arms. His brother was a big man and he finally had to put him over his shoulder. Slowly, Buck walked out of the apartment and down the creaking stairs. At the door of the building, he met two other radiation-suited figures. Buck quickly recognized Hawk, and then realized that the other figure was Tony. He said nothing in greeting, just stood staring, his brother on his shoulder. His radiation suit gave warning that his time was up.**

**"You are interring your family, Buck?" Hawk asked, the voice emotionless, but the eyes filled with understanding; with grief. Buck knew that his friend was thinking of Koori, his beloved.**

**"Yes."**

**"We’ll do it, Buck," Tony said. "Frit is going to bring you back. Time is up for you."**

**"No!" Buck said harshly. "Only four people. We’ll get them buried quickly."**

**There was disbelief in Tony’s dark eyes, but Hawk simply helped Buck lower his brother to the small plot of ground behind the apartment. What used to be a flowerbed was a plain, debris-covered mound of dark earth now. "Where are tools for digging, Buck?"**

**"In the shed, probably," Buck answered. "But there won’t be enough for all of us to dig."**

**"Go back, get what you need, Buck. Get another radiation suit and we’ll start," Tony ordered.**

**Buck hesitated, but Hawk nodded his agreement. "All right," he finally acquiesced.**

**Tony pushed a button on his belt and Buck felt the now-familiar tingling and weightlessness. Then he was in the Tunnel. Technicians rushed toward him, quickly stripping the suit from his body. He was pushed from the Tunnel and directed from the area. He stopped short. "No! I need some tools and a new suit."**

**"Buck." It was Dr. Huer. "You can’t go back."**

**"Just try and stop me! I will bury my family. I promised my brother." His voice rose with his anger and frustration. He glowered at the older man. "Don’t keep me from this."**

**They glared at one another and then Dr. Huer nodded a reluctant acceptance. "There is another suit. You can use it while we decontaminate the one you were wearing." The doctor put his hand on Buck’s arm. "What do you need? I will try to get it if it’s here."**

**"Something to dig; shovels at the very least, a small digging machine if possible." As Huer began to turn away, Buck added, "Doctor, if it can be done, I want a headstone made."**

**Dr. Huer gasped. "The headstone! That is why there was a headstone for your family."**

**Buck nodded, smiling wanly. "I guess so." He paused, looking at the older man’s arm. It was warm and comforting. "Can it be done?"**

**"Yes. Write what you want on it and I will have someone construct it."**

**"Natural stone, if possible," Buck added softly.**

**"Of course. And Buck," Huer began.**

**"Yes?"**

**"Be careful. The radiation is very high there. Even with the suits, you are getting a small dose of radiation each time you go, especially if you are over the allotted time limit."**

**"I know, Doc," Buck admitted. A technician brought another suit and Buck quickly donned it. While he was doing that, someone else got tools for him to take with him. They were of the time of the Holocaust—a couple of shovels and a small gas-powered digging machine. Buck studied it and decided it was something akin to a miner’s excavating machine, probably here in the complex in case there was some kind of underground disaster.**

**"Thanks," Buck told the technicians who had brought them. All of them carried the materials to the Tunnel entrance and then into the glowing orifice.**

**Buck stood near them and gave a signal. Again there were the familiar sensations and then he was in the back of the apartment building. Tony was digging a hole that was already six feet long and a couple of feet deep. He stood up when Buck appeared and approached the equipment. "Good job! This will speed up the job."**

**"How long do you have, Tony?" Buck asked. "And where’s Hawk?"**

**"Inside, trying to figure out which apartment your family is in. And to answer the first question; we have been here about half of our time."**

**Buck nodded. "I’ll go help him if you can get this machine working."**

**"I’ll get it going," Tony said with conviction. "You go on and help Hawk."**

**Buck was up the stairs in an instant. He found Hawk in the apartment, Buck’s father in his arms. "You found the right place."**

**Hawk nodded. "There is a resemblance." He paused a beat. "Did you want to take your father down or do you want me to?"**

**"I will. My sister is on the other side of the couch. Would you get her?" Hawk nodded and Buck took his father from his friend’s arms. "Thanks, Hawk."**

**"I do this because you are my friend, even my brother. I can do no less."**

**Buck felt his throat closing up again and he nodded. "Thanks," he choked out again. Then he turned and carefully carried his father down the stairs. His father had lost weight and wasn’t as large as Frank, but still it was difficult carrying him down the stairs. When he had reached the back yard, Buck saw that Tony had made a great deal of headway into the soft earth of the flower bed. Carefully, Buck laid his father down next to Frank who almost appeared to be resting by the back door of the old apartment building.**

**Hawk followed with Marilyn, gently laying her next to the others. "I will help Dr. Newman while you get your mother . . . unless you need my help."**

**"No, I’ll get Mom." Within minutes, he was back using the other shovel to break the ground that Tony deepened with the machine. Suddenly, Tony stopped and gazed at Buck. "We have to go back and get new suits." And before Buck could respond, both Tony and Hawk had disappeared.**

**Buck took the machine, shifted it back into gear and continued what Tony had begun. Soon there was a deep enough grave for two people. Buck continued even as the cloying, dusty air swirled around him. The sirens were silent now as were any voices of the dying. The ground shuddered occasionally but Buck ignored it. Within minutes, he had another three feet in width dug in the large grave.**

**The air shimmered and Tony returned. "Hawk is having a bit of trouble getting his suit ready for the return." He saw the progress Buck had made and nodded. "Glad they had that in the emergency stores. Do you want me to take over?"**

**Buck considered. "Yes. I will get my family ready to go in the grave." While Tony took over the machine and deepened and widened the grave, Buck knelt beside his mother and father. "I wish I could have been here soon enough to help you. I wish I could have saved you." He felt the prickling of tears again and blinked to hold them back. Not now. This was not the time. "You were so precious to me. I have missed you so much these past few years. Memories of you are what helped give me strength when it got rough. Thank you." He knelt quietly, not saying or thinking anything else. He had always wanted the opportunity to say good-bye, but now that he had; now that he was laying them to rest and saying his final good-byes, Buck felt drained. He felt empty of any emotion except for helplessness. Wisps of fog or smoke curled around his feet and rose around his body, drifting like oily film into the dim sky.**

**He reached out to straighten his mother’s apron. Mom loved wearing her old-fashioned aprons with large pockets. Dad had called her a female Mr. Green Jeans. She kept all kinds of things in her pockets—recipes, grocery lists, receipts, newspaper clippings, pictures of family members. This one was a favorite, he remembered; it was the yellow one with light green ruffled trim. She had said that her own mother had made it and worn it before giving it to Mom. He reached into the pockets and found several pieces of paper and some pictures. There was also a short pencil and a tiny notepad. There was no time to read now, so Buck transferred the items into a specimen pocket of his suit. He reached out and touched her cheek. "I love you." He touched his father’s hand and Marilyn’s, telling them the same thing.**

**"I think this is big enough, Buck," Tony said softly, touching his shoulder.**

**Buck hadn’t even realized that the machine was not running. It was silent except for the soft sloughing of the wind. A thicker fog was creeping along the edges of the hedge at the back of the little back yard. "Thanks, Tony," he murmured. He folded his mother’s arms across her chest and pushed a stray strand of silver-gray hair from her forehead. Then he finished straightening her clothes, brushing the worst of the dust that was now falling like snowflakes from the sky. Gently, he picked her up in his arms and carried her the short distance to the large grave.**

**Remotely, Buck noticed Hawk standing in the grave, ready to take the bodies. Buck nodded, seeing the rightness of his brother-friend being there to help him put his family to rest. Tony stood nearby in respectful silence. Buck handed his mother to Hawk, who laid her gently, almost reverently on one side of the grave. His father soon followed, then his sister and brother. The four bodies lay close together as though sleeping, but even that was artificial as the dust—the fallout—began to fall thicker.**

**Hawk climbed out of the grave and the three men stood quietly for a moment. "Did you want to say anything, Buck," Tony asked gently.**

**Buck took a deep breath, one that was accentuated by the re-breathing system. "They were good people who did not deserve to die this way. God grant them peace and God grant that the rest of my family was able to escape this." He paused and took another, tremulous breath. "I love you and will never forget you." He stood without saying anything for several moments.**

**"Amen," Tony murmured next to him. Still the other two men did nothing and Buck realized why. They were waiting for him to place the first shovelful of dirt over the bodies. Buck didn’t know how Hawk knew this, only that he must be watching Tony’s example. With arms that felt heavy, Buck picked up a shovel and gathered a small amount of the dirt that had been heaped to the side. He carefully sprinkled some of it on the chests of each of his family members. All the while, the little buzzer gave him warnings. It had been a shorter time than before. Buck ignored the warning as he began to throw more shovelfuls of dirt into the mass grave.**

**"Buck, let us finish," Tony said, again touching him in the shoulder. "I know you have been here beyond the safe limit."**

**"No, I am going to finish this myself. You two go on."**

**"I will not leave you," Hawk stated.**

**Buck recognized the ‘no argument’ tone in the birdman’s voice, but it didn’t matter to him if the others stayed or not. "I am going to do this myself," Buck said woodenly, but decisively. He shoveled dirt even when his hands began to blister inside the gloves. Buck continued long after his back and shoulders screamed with pain. Still, his two friends stood by. Finally, he had the soil mounded over the bodies of his family and Buck stood back, feeling the sweat pouring down his chest and back. He was heaving for breath and his legs were shaky. He felt his friends on either side but he couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, wasn’t able to say anything. Vaguely, Buck heard Tony talking to someone back in the Tunnel and the air swirled and flickered and the dismal, gloomy scene was gone.**


	16. Chapter 16

**The three men appeared together in the Tunnel and the first thing Tony noticed was the presence of two medical technicians in the area between the main console and the Tunnel entrance. As soon as they had materialized, the men began moving toward them.**

**"Begin removing your radiation suits, gentlemen," the foremost of them said.**

**Tony was peeling off his suit when he felt someone sagging against him. "Buck!" he cried out when he realized who it was. The technicians in front leaped forward as Tony tried unsuccessfully to hold his friend up. Hawk had jumped to Buck's other side, but the Directorate pilot collapsed to his hands and knees on the walkway, heaving violently. Tony quickly pulled off Buck’s visor.**

**"Decontamination Bay, med emergency. Coming in with three, one incapacitated," a dark-haired man called into a small communicator. He looked up at Tony and Hawk. "Can you remove your suits without help?"**

**Tony only nodded, his concern over Buck growing.**

**Hawk ignored the question, staying by Buck’s side. His friend sagged to the walkway, unconscious. Hawk looked up, his dark eyes showing intense worry. "Will he be all right?"**

**"We'll find out. Please move away and let us do our job," the med tech said professionally. "This is why we have radiation indicators in these things, so people will leave those kinds of areas when the radiation...."**

**"He was burying his family," Hawk said softly, his voice ominous as he rose to his feet and pulled off his suit. All the while, his eyes were locked on those of the med tech. He handed the radiation suit to someone who had joined the group. The technician gazed into the dark, angry eyes for only a moment before turning away. He said nothing more, only directing arriving personnel to take care of Buck.**

**The group was escorted to what Tony recognized as the medical bay, except it was now refurbished and modernized. Buck was brought in on a gurney, still unconscious. Tony and Hawk were escorted to separate areas where they were quickly checked and given a battery of radiation treatments. "What about Captain Rogers?" Tony asked his friend’s attendant doctor.**

**"I don't know. You'll have to wait over there until the tests and examination are finished."**

**Hawk sat down next to Tony and they waited for what seemed an interminably long time, side by side, neither saying a thing. Several hours later, Wilma, joined them. Her eyes spoke volumes.**

**============================**

**Buck kept seeing oily fog reaching up with skeletal hands trying to choke him. Voices screamed and moaned in the corners of the hazy area where he couldn’t see anything but dark shapes. Bodies trudged toward him, their skin sloughing from their bones, their eyes blank and unseeing. He tried to back away, but there were more behind him. It was like the remnant hordes of mutants, trying to kill him and destroy Twiki for his parts. The individuals in the front disintegrated before his eyes, body parts melting, and Buck gagged even as he tried to keep out of their reach. It was like a vivid and horrifying film from his childhood, except this was real.**

**A bloody hand grabbed him and Buck jerked aside. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and saw the faces of those he knew, Wilma, Hawk, Dr. Huer and Tony—and they were whole and alive. He tried to sit up, but groaned and lay back down. His body felt battered; the muscles in his sides and diaphragm most abused. He had a colossal headache, one that reached all the way to his toes and curled itself back up around his stomach. Cotton filled his mouth and made it difficult to speak. "What happened?" he finally croaked out.**

**"You stayed in a dangerous area far too long," someone next to him said, the voice unsympathetic.**

**Buck didn’t recognize the speaker and assumed he was the doctor. Alarm gripped him and when the man said nothing else, Buck prodded. "And…."**

**"And you are lucky to be alive," the doctor retorted. "At first I thought your symptoms were from acute radiation poisoning, so I pumped you with all the anti-radiation treatments available." He scrutinized Buck. "It seems that your symptoms were psychogenic, for the most part, as your lymphocyte count is only slightly depressed."**

**"Symptoms?" Buck asked stupidly, then he remembered the horrible nausea; was still feeling the pain of the nasty headache.**

**"I thought you were a Defense Directorate employee and you don’t know the symptoms of radiation sickness?" The doctor shook his head in disgust, but Buck saw a slight smile on Wilma’s lips.**

**"Of course I know the symptoms; I just didn’t remember what happened after…. I just didn’t remember, that’s all," Buck responded, sounding almost petulant.**

**"You do, now?"**

**"Yes, Doctor. I remember."**

**"Good, then you won’t ignore the warnings that were built into your equipment next time." The doctor finished his examination and moved off.**

**Buck scowled after the retreating figure, but felt his anger melting away as Wilma stepped to his side. "That was dangerous, Buck, but I understand why you did it." She paused and he saw her eyes misting.**

**He thought he had understood what the doctor said, but still everyone was looking like they were at a funeral. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, Buck remembered the funeral back in Chicago and cringed. "Okay, so am I going to live or not?"**

**"Not by reason of any of your actions, Captain," the doctor said from the other side of the room.**

**Buck almost made a nasty retort, but Wilma’s hand on his cheek stayed him. "You were so sick, Buck. I thought . . . well, I was afraid…."**

**"That I had received a fatal dose?" he finished.**

**She nodded and then threw her arms around him. Buck noticed the others standing a bit uncomfortably to the side, but he didn’t care. Reaching up, he pulled her closer. "Thanks for understanding," he murmured in her ear. "I’ve been a regular pain in the ass lately and still you’ve understood." She pulled back with a lopsided grin on her face and Buck noticed that his friends had scattered from the room. He appreciated their consideration.**

**"You have always been a pain in the . . . well, you have, but it took a while to understand just what makes you the person you are," she replied. "I don’t think I would want you any other way."**

**He took her hand. "Even when I scare the bejeebers out of you?"**

**She sighed. "Buck, you have scared me more times than I would like to consider. I wish you wouldn’t, but I guess it comes with . . . knowing you." She brightened. "I guess I will just have to learn to be a bigger pain."**

**Buck began chuckling and then as a thought occurred to him, he laughed aloud. "Wilma, I do believe that you would win the contest."**

**"What contest?" she said, slightly puzzled.**

**"The, uh, butt-kicking contest." And with that comment, Wilma began laughing with him.**

**She was still chuckling as she turned and picked up something on a nearby counter. By now, Buck’s headache had receded to something just this side of tolerable and he sat up slowly. Wilma carried the object as though it was something either very delicate or very precious. It appeared to be a picture in a golden-hued picture frame. She handed it to him and Buck glanced at it and then did a double take. It was a picture of him and his mother and father, taken when he had graduated from the academy. He looked up at Wilma in surprise and puzzlement. "Where?" He knew he didn’t have one with him when he had gone up in _Ranger_. So how did Wilma get a hold of a copy? There was a crease along one side and it appeared as though it had been carried around a great deal.**

**"You had it on you when you came back from burying your family," she said softly. "You don’t remember?"**

**Then it dawned on him. Yes, he did remember. "It was in Mom’s apron pocket. I, uh, didn’t have time to see what it was when I took if from her."**

**"This was with it," she said softly, handing him an envelope. It had a stamp on it, but had apparently never been sent off.**

**Buck carefully opened the envelope, feeling anything from his past to be precious. He pulled out a letter and recognized his mother’s handwriting. Without saying anything, he began reading. It was addressed to one of the then Illinois senators. As he read it, Buck felt a renewed love and appreciation for his parents. To the end, they—especially his mother—had been staunchly loyal to him, even to threatening a lawsuit for defamation of character. Mom was such a scrappy woman; he didn’t doubt that she would have done it were it not for the nuclear holocaust. He pictured her in the courtroom in a very proper apron and he smiled softly at his daydream. However, Buck realized that his dream back in the jungle had been at least partly couched in reality. He thought of the horrible scene he had found in his brother’s apartment, then he looked at the picture again, studied it, remembered the time it had been taken, the emotions he had felt, and thoughts that had occupied him then, and his heart lightened.**

**"I got this for you, too, Buck."**

**He looked up and saw what looked to be a container in her hands, or a box. As she drew closer, she began to pull the lid off and Buck realized it was a book. Even in such a short time, the elements had darkened the thick leather cover, causing it to become prematurely cracked and mottled. Puzzled, he took it from her hands and opened it. Then he did another double take, realizing that it was his mother’s scrapbook. She had taken it to Frank’s apartment that fateful day. There were a few newer pictures that he was unfamiliar with at the back of the book—his nieces and nephews along with his brother and sister and parents. Tearing his gaze away from the pictures, he looked up at Wilma. "You went back," he said softly. "Even though you thought I was sick because of the radiation, you went back."**

**"Yes, I did, dear heart. These were your people, I knew you wanted something of them besides the memory of burying them under such horrible conditions." She was silent for a beat and then she continued softly. "And because they were your family, I wanted a piece of you from them. I guess that was rather selfish of me, but I wanted to see more of who you were rather than just the stories and memories you have told me. I’m afraid I went through it while you were still unconscious. I hope you don’t mind."**

**Buck took her hands in his and kissed the palms tenderly. "Thank you, Wilma. And you can look anytime you wish." He pulled her closer and kissed her passionately. His fingers swam through her thick, soft, luxuriant hair.**

**She finally pulled away, catching the book as it began to slide off his lap. "This is a bit awkward, dear heart," she whispered.**

**"So it is," he replied and swung off the bed, pulling off the medical leads. At a squawk from the doctor, Buck turned, his glare defying the man’s continued protest. He turned back to Wilma, offering her his arm. "Shall we retire to my cabin to look at the album together?" he asked, even as the doctor continued muttering.**

**"No, you are using the cabin that belonged to Jerry Ricker. While I am not superstitious, I would prefer not staying where the poor man died." Then she smiled wickedly. "How ‘bout mine?"**

**"Lead on, gallant lady," Buck agreed, even while he felt a slight wash of dizziness course through his body.**

**Although it was quickly gone, Wilma noticed. "Are you all right?" she murmured. "Maybe you’d better stay here a while longer."**

**"Absolutely not! And certainly not while Dr. Doom is on duty," Buck answered her in a conspiratorial tone of voice. "Just hold me up until we are out the door."**

**"My hands are a bit full," she pointed out. She had the picture, letter and the scrapbook.**

**He took the scrapbook from her hands, and placed the picture and letter inside. "Now, your hands are totally free to do anything they want."**

**She laughed, happy at his mood change. "That a promise?" she asked.**

**"Make it one when we’re more comfortable," he retorted good-naturedly.**

**Hawk was outside the door and looked surprised when they emerged arm in arm. "The doctor released you?"**

**"No," Buck replied with a cocky smile. "I escaped."**

**Hawk only nodded. "Then I suppose that you two will be enjoying dinner in privacy."**

**"You supposed right, my friend." Buck paused a moment and then reached out and grabbed his friend by the arm. His grip spoke the depth of his friendship and respect. "Thanks, Hawk. I appreciate you coming after me—and of understanding."**

**Hawk said nothing, only nodded, returned the grip and after a moment, turned back toward the Tunnel.**

**The couple continued to her cabin where Buck finally put aside all pretense and almost fell onto the small futon-type couch that also served as her bed. He lay back and sighed heavily.**

**"Are you sure you’re all right?"**

**"Wilma, where do you want to get married?" he asked, ignoring her question. "I mean, we never really discussed it, only assumed that it would be here on Earth. But where, specifically, do you want the wedding?"**

**"I was thinking New Chicago, but if you were prefer somewhere else…."**

**"I’m relatively new to this century, so I defer to you, querida." Then he sobered. "I know you’ve thought about it."**

**"The Great Reception Hall," she said after a short deliberation. "It’s big enough."**

**He remembered the hall where Ardala and her entourage had been wined and dined and where Wilma had first come on to him. It was beautiful, but thoughts of all the dignitaries that Theo and Dr. Huer would think necessary to invite came to mind and he cringed. Elopement suddenly came to mind. Someplace like Doug and Tony’s place. But he knew a small wedding would not be possible. After all, Wilma had been head of Defense Directorate military forces and was second in command of one of Earth’s largest star ships. "Okay, the hall it will be. When?"**

**"When you choose, dearest," she said, sitting down next to him.**

**"After we place the headstone on my family’s grave," he said quickly. "And when Doug, Ann and the kids make their transfer. I’ve grown rather fond of them. I’d like them at the wedding."**

**"So have I," Wilma said, thinking of the children she had been with up until Buck’s illness. They sat in companionable silence, enjoying each other’s company without feeling the need to say anything. "Buck, thank you," she finally said, leaning over and giving him a kiss. Buck was a whole-hearted participant in the reciprocation.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A week later by 25th century time, a small group gathered in a haunted, ruined area. By 20th century standards it was a little over a month beyond the previous visit. The visitors still wore radiation protective suits, even though the air was not quite as thick with radioactive pollutants as it had been before. A cold wind blew from the lake drifting snow against the remnants of the old apartment building. In the month gone by, refugees had alternately lived in and ransacked the place. It had finally burned down, leaving only blackened timbers standing as mute evidence of its existence. Four mounds showed where other people had been buried, crudely carved crosses marking the spots of more victims of the insanity. Buck felt it fitting that this place had become a cemetery of sorts.**

**The nuclear winter was in full force in what should have been an early fall day. Dr. Huer had delivered the headstone the day before. It had been transported directly from the entrance of the complex to the grave. Buck had been impressed with the precision of the Tunnel. If the truth be told, the time travelers/Tunnel creators had been equally impressed. As far as Buck was concerned, though, that was fine. It eased what he had come to feel as the upcoming ‘big good-bye.’ The marker was exactly as Buck had found it that time when he had been so new to the 25th century, except, of course it was newer right now. He briefly pondered the paradox of time and destiny while they stood in the howling winds.**

**"Did you wish to say something, Buck?" Dr. Huer, who was standing by his side, asked gently.**

**"Yes," Buck answered, but didn’t know where to begin at first. How could you describe four lives that meant so much to him in the time frame allotted to him? And how could you make their existence meaningful to people who had never known them. Finally, though, he began, quickly describing just who these four members of his family had been; snippets of what they had done in their lives. Then he ended simply. "They were good people, trying the best they could in a world that was at once exhilarating and frightening. I have a lot to be grateful for and most of it is because of the people lying here in this place and time," he said softly. "My mother, who believed I could do anything, even when she had to come bail me out of the principal’s office more times than she cared. Mom, you wiped my tears, held my confidences and put up with my antics with the patience of Job. Rest in peace. You certainly deserve it. My dad, who was tough, but underneath it all, had a hundred carat gold heart. I hope you’ve caught Old Scaley up there at the ice hole in the hear-after." Then he chuckled. "Hell, he’s probably caught you. I miss you, Dad. I miss you both." Buck swallowed hard and then continued. "Frank, you were my hero. Despite what they said when I got Ranger, you were a much bigger man than I ever was. Marilyn, thanks for all you did for me. You introduced me to so much, the real and the not so real. You were the only person who didn’t give me grief when I misplaced stuff on the bookcase. I promise, I’ll do my best to find out what happened to Mike and yours and Frank’s kids. Rest in peace…." He couldn’t say any more.**

**"Te ania maka me’olo nara’a’anui, Make Make," Hawk said softly nearby, one arm stretched in supplication toward the glowering sky and his head bowed.**

**Buck was moved, knowing what Hawk was asking from his God for his family.**

**"My gratitude to the family whose sacrifice gave me the one I love," Wilma murmured. "I’ll do my best to take care of him."**

**Several people nodded as Buck put his arm around Wilma’s shoulders. Then something, a stray thought that became a neon beacon flashed into his mind. "Wilma?" he began looking intently into his fiancé’s eyes.**

**"Yes?"**

**"Let’s exchange our vows here. Now. They’re here, you know."**

**"Who?" Wilma asked, her gray eyes filled with confusion.**

**"My family . . . my parents. I can feel them, Wilma. This is the only way they could be a part of . . . of our wedding."**

**"Here?"**

**"Yes, and then we can repeat our vows in the hall with everyone else…."**

**She studied his face, saw the gleam in his eyes and glanced at the headstone. The snow swirled around them, the wind plucking at the sleeves of their protective suits, moaning softly through the limbs of the dead trees behind them.**

**"We are both children of the Great Holocaust, Wilma. Let this be the backdrop for new and brighter life. Let’s tell those responsible for this that they can’t destroy us, they can’t destroy humanity or our dreams and hopes."**

**His voice was as passionate, no, more so, Wilma thought, than she had ever heard it before. What did he say? His family was here? Why couldn’t they be at the hall when they married there if they could be here? But she saw how very important this was to him. And the spirits of his family, they had never appeared in New Chicago. At least Buck had never told her they had and he had confided many things to her, especially recently. This was very important to him. Wilma could see that. She turned to face him, felt his hands take hers, then she looked at Doctor Huer. "Would you officiate, please?"**

**He looked stunned, but he finally nodded.**

**"Hawk, you’re my best man," Buck said and the birdman stepped to his side.**

**"Ann? I think you called the role ‘matron of honor’?" Wilma said questioningly at her new friend and confidant. Ann nodded and stepped away from her husband to stand near Wilma. It had taken much discussion between the two scientists and Ann’s iron willed persistence that had made her presence even thinkable here. Doug had been very much opposed to her being exposed to the minutest bit of this atmosphere. In the end, it was also one of the main reasons that this little gathering had come over a month beyond Buck’s initial visit.**

**"This is most unusual, and in the interest of the inherent dangers of this place," Dr. Huer began, glancing nervously around him, "I will not give the full pre-nuptial address."**

**"Thanks, Doc," Buck said with a grin, while his eye contact remained on his beautiful bride. Even in this desolation, he felt a sense of euphoria, mingled with calm determination. He truly did feel the presence of more than the six individuals who had accompanied him for the final tribute to his family.**

**"As you said, Buck, the Great Holocaust brought death and destruction, but nothing can destroy the hope of the human heart, nor the determination of humanity. However, it is love that has brought men and women of Earth together even during the darkest days and it is that love that continues to bring out the best in our people, indeed, to continue our race. The union of marriage is a symbol of that love, hope, and determination. May this marriage be the bright beginning of two people who care for, love and cherish one another. May you, Captain William Anthony Rogers and you, Colonel Wilma Deering always put the concerns, needs and well-being of the other before your own concerns, needs and well-being. May you continue to be devoted to one another. May you see yourselves as one whole unit instead of two individual people. May this love be continually consummated with every thought, every breath you both take." He paused and gazed like a loving father at the couple whose eyes were still only on one another. "Exchange your vows, please."**

**When Wilma nodded to him, Buck began. "Wilma Deering, I love you, cherish you and take you to be my wife and companion; my friend and lover, not just until we die but forever, here on Earth, in the stars and in my heart." Somehow he thought there might be more. "I have traveled through the centuries to find you. Time and space will never separate us." He squeezed her hands, feeling he had said everything he needed or wanted to say.**

**"William Anthony…." She paused. "Buck Rogers, I love you, cherish you and take you to be my husband and companion, now and forever. You are in my heart and in my every thought, and you will always be there. Even though I didn’t realize it before, I have waited through the centuries for you to come to me. Time and space will never separate us."**

**As he took her in his arms, he heard Dr. Huer’s emotional declaration, "With this love and the promise of a new beginning, and in front of these witnesses, I pronounce you husband and wife."**

**Buck crushed her to his chest. When they finally pulled away from their embrace, they turned toward the grave.**

**"You’re right, Buck, they are here. I feel them," Wilma murmured.**

**"Yeah." He felt the darkness of his surroundings, the horror of what he had dealt with the previous week, the despair and helplessness lift from his heart. The echoes of his past were of happiness and renewed hope, love and peace. Good feelings swirled into his soul and throughout his entire being. He felt joy, like a visiting spirit, caressing him and pushing whatever guilt he had harbored throughout these past few years away. He paused and then a wicked gleam came into his eye as the voices of congratulations sounded near them. "Now let’s go do that consummation stuff that Dr. Huer was talking about."**

**She laughed. "Yes, I want that kiss that Ann said would be so special at the end of the wedding ceremony."**

**They were the first transported back to the Tunnel and as soon as they were on the walkway, Buck and Wilma pulled off their protective headgear and kissed. Neither heard anything around them, were aware of anything but each other. And Wilma knew that Ann was right, this was a kiss that surpassed anything that Buck, or anyone else had done before. They only pulled away when an embarrassed Frit Malcome informed them that the others needed to return. With a laugh, the newlyweds walked out of the Tunnel hand in hand and headed out of the main control complex only barely hearing the congratulations of those they passed.**

*****************************************************

**Epilogue**

**When Buck and Wilma returned to _Searcher_ a month later, they found their belongings in a new, larger, family cabin. Buck gazed in wonder at the careful blending of his and her things decorating their new quarters. "Who….?" he began and then simply let Wilma pull him through the main living/entertainment area and into the tiny kitchen/dining area. They next walked into their bedroom, more than half again the size that either of them had enjoyed in their old cabins. A very comfortable bed occupied the center, with more of their belongings neatly hung and stored in the recessed closets. A thick-paned port showed the passage of the ship through the expanse of space and Buck continued to stare in wonder as Wilma made the rounds of the room.**

**"I hear Hawk was mainly responsible for having our new cabin ready," Wilma informed him.**

**"I am going to have to properly thank him," Buck murmured.**

**"Thank who for what?" a deep voice sounded from the main doorway.**

**Buck spun around, "Hawk!" He motioned his friend in and the birdman complied, a happy gleam in his dark eyes. "I thought you would still be at the complex studying history," Buck told him.**

**Hawk shook his head, although the expression on his face didn’t indicate any kind of disappointment. "I know my duties and will honor them. Long term probes have been sent to the times and places where we have found more evidence of my people. I am pleased with the progress of my searches and will take my leave in the complex whenever I can. Tony has been very helpful, too, and has promised to reserve part of his efforts to continuing to look for my ancestors." He paused. "I suspect that what we find will only confirm what we and Sky Mother dreamed."**

**Buck only nodded. "I think you’re right. I just hope it’s not too painful." He remembered the dreams of that time during the birdpeople’s persecution and they weren’t pleasant, even for him.**

**"As it was for you, the pain of the seeing—of the experience—of your family; it was a hard thing. But it was necessary."**

**Buck considered his friend’s words for a moment and nodded. He wouldn’t give up any of it. "Yeah, I know." Then he brightened. "So you have found something?"**

**"Yes, there were more artifacts on Rapanui before the arrival of humans, many that disappeared in later centuries," Hawk said, with a satisfied smile.**

**Wilma joined him. "I’m glad, Hawk. I guess Miru is also excited."**

**"Indeed she is. I have been showing her the vids that the Tunnel took and telling her more of the history of our people that I know. In turn, she has been giving me more of our people’s history that she knows. It is good for both of us. We have dreamed the dreams of a united people."**

**"I’m glad, Hawk," Buck replied. "By the way, thanks for getting this ready for us," Buck said. "I like it. Have a seat," he added, pointing to the L-shaped couch in one corner of the room.**

**Hawk shook his head. "Perhaps later, my friends. I have a patrol coming up and I believe that Admiral Asimov would like both of you to report to him. I only came by to welcome you back and to see if everything was in order." He paused. "And I did not do this alone. Miru did much of it even before I came back on duty."**

**"We’ll thank her, too," Wilma said brightly.**

**"By the way, how’s Tony and Doug’s family doing? They still at the complex?" Buck asked. They had spent the first few days of their honeymoon at the Montana ranch. However, Wilma had wanted to spend some time away from the underground complex and so they had taken a nice cruise on a ship to the Leonid cluster, reveling in the wonders of the brilliant nebulae that could be seen there. All in all, it had been a glorious honeymoon. Very restful.**

**"Yes, they are, although I saw less of Dr. Newman the last few days I was there."**

**"Oh?" Buck prompted.**

**"He seems to have become close to one of the other Tunnel personnel."**

**"Oh?" Buck prompted again, his curiosity mounting, even though he thought he might know just who that ‘personnel’ was.**

**"Someone from the medical staff. An Aiyanna Carbonne," Hawk replied, his face expressionless, but his eyes showing humor.**

**"Ah," Buck and Wilma said together. Buck suspected that the young doctor had been smitten with the scientist from the moment she had laid eyes on him. Somehow, he was not surprised that the feelings were being reciprocated. He had sensed that Tony was now more accepting of his past and secure of his future and ready to begin developing relationships. Buck felt his own sense of peace and rightness to everything. Wilma’s arm that had wrapped around his waist when Hawk had arrived, tightened and he felt that sense of rightness increase.**

**Buck jerked up in surprise when he heard a biddee biddee biddee, and then, "About time you got back!"**

**"Twiki!" Buck cried. "You're fixed."**

**"Few gaps, but I'm right as rain."**

** All was indeed right with the world, Buck thought. At least for the present…. He wondered at his temporal references and realized that he would never think of time in the linear sense ever again. Indeed, there were many things that had changed—and for the better. He gave a sigh of deep contentment and squeezed his wife closer to his side. He could ask for nothing more.**


End file.
